The Lost Prince
by bloodstar
Summary: (Sequel to The Chosen) The prophecy is over, but the war has just begun. The Pod Squad returns to Antar to fight Khivar and release the Lythian system from his reign of terror.(Buffy/Angel/Roswell Crossover)
1. Chapter One

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Roswell, Buffy or Angel, but I do own…um…well, all the random soldiers…oh, and Deimon, sort of…maybe Khivar when he's being Kyden? I'm really reaching, aren't I? Fine, I don't own anything.

**CATEGORY: **Buffy/Angel/Roswell crossover.

**PAIRINGS:** M&M, R&F, A&I, O&S, M&L, Z&A.

**RATING: **PG – For all the shooting and death. LOL

**SUMMARY:** Sequel to "The Chosen". Takes place a year after the Pod Squad stepped through the portal onto Antar. The prophecy is over, but the war has just begun. The Pod Squad returns to Antar to fight Khivar and release the Lythian system from his reign of terror.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Yep, it's summer and all my writing skills seem to have gone on vacation, so expect mistakes, I'm sure they're there. Sorry 'bout that.

CHAPTER ONE 

Michael winced as another explosion sounded in the distance, and the ground shook with its force. The war was still raging even after 12 years. He was tired of fighting.

It was exactly one year to the day since they'd stepped through the wormhole onto this godforsaken planet and it was only recently that they'd made any kind of headway. The underground was bigger than they'd expected, but still, a band of untrained rebels was no match for Khivar's army. There had been a lot of work waiting for them. There was also the added animosity between Zan's and Rath's followers. The fighting amongst the troops didn't help at all. But finally, after a year of yelling and fighting and planning, they were able to put it behind them and work together as a team.

That's where he was now. On a rescue mission. Yesterday's attack on the northern quadrant was devastating. Somehow, Khivar found out where their main base of operations was and his army descended upon them like a pack of wolves on an unsuspecting bunny. Half the soldiers were killed, including Liz and Zan. The other half was taken prisoner or left dying as a present from the enemy. Among the prisoners were Kyle, Faith, Ava and Serena. That was the mission: To rescue the rest of the "Saviours". That was the name the rebels gave them when they joined the fight. Michael, Maria, Rath, Faith, Alex, Isabel, Serena, Oz, Kyle, Max, Liz, Zan, and Ava were the leaders of the underground and the saviours of Antar. It was their job to strategise, plan and execute all the attacks against Khivar. The people appreciated and looked up to the Royal Four and their mates. It was the only thing they could really agree on.

"All clear," Oz's voice came over his com-link. After giving a brief reply, Michael turned to Rath and the three soldiers they'd brought with them and gave them the signal to move on.

Silently, they slipped through the castle corridors, pausing only to plant micro cameras in strategic places. Just because this was only a rescue mission didn't mean they couldn't be on the offensive. These cameras would help them track Khivar's movements.

'Michael? You there?' Maria called in his head. She was back at the eastern base, against her will, with a map of the palace, guiding them through. Michael had ordered her to stay put. He didn't want her out in the fray, too. It took the deaths of Liz and Zan for them to realise that they weren't invincible. They weren't the immortal saviours their people believed them to be. They were still only human. No longer did they all charge gallantly into the fight at the same time. Some had to be left behind as a second front. That's why Maria needed to stay back at the base to hold the fort there and keep an eye on the last remaining Antarian king. If Khivar got to Max, then it was all over.

'Yeah, are we getting closer?' Michael signalled for his soldiers to get back as two of Khivar's guards ran down the hall. As they passed them, Sergeants Haulle and Mekaille stepped out of the doorways they were hiding in, grabbed them, and snapped their necks, before dragging their limp bodies into an empty room.

'Okay, Alex says you're in the third corridor of the west wing…Ground floor?' She paused, presumably to confer with Alex. 'Yeah, so…take the next left. There should be a door to the dungeon stairway.'

'Got it. Where's Oz's team?'

'Um…' She turned to Alex, who was also back at the base, tracking their movements from the computers. Each of them had a microscopic homing device implanted in their arms. The signal relayed back to a laptop, where it was fed into a program Alex created. All the floor plans of pretty much everywhere was programmed into that computer, so they could be tracked and pinpointed anywhere in the capital city. From the signals sent back to the base, they were able to figure out that the prisoners, namely the four captured 'saviours' were in different ends of the dungeons, which was the reason for two teams.

'They're at the stairwell in the east wing. You guys should meet up somewhere in the middle. That's where the dungeons are.'

'Right. Thanks Maria.' He gave his soldiers the directions and followed them down the hall. 

Another explosion sounded, closer this time. A rumble echoed off the walls as more of Khivar's inside guards ran out to help protect the palace. Good. The plan was working. The rebels attacked from the outside while Michael, Oz, Rath and Isabel infiltrated it and rescued their prisoners. And hey, if they managed to gain control of the castle, all the better.

"Rath? Anything yet?" Michael asked his brother quietly as they descended the stairs into the dungeons. 

The corridor split into four directions and they were relying on Rath's connection with Faith to track them down. He closed his eyes and stood still, feeling for that familiar tingle in the back of his mind. Faith. Finally, he opened his eyes and pointed down the third path.

The corridors were dark and dingy, lit only by old-fashioned fire-torches, and carved out of stone, making it look more like a cave than the lowest level of a marble palace. Instead of the smooth, shiny floors found on the upper levels, there was only dirt and mud. By the smell of it, either the sewers passed straight through there, or the royal family who built it didn't see fit to give the prisoners proper plumbing. 

Slowly, but confidently, Rath navigated the maze of dusty pathways and prison cells full of groaning offenders. The deeper they got into the maze, the faster Rath walked until he was at a full out run. The others followed close behind, mentally noting the twists and turns, since it was obvious that Rath wasn't doing it. Suddenly, he skidded to a halt in front of a large metal door. There was a small, bar-covered window near the top of the door.

"This it?" Michael asked unnecessarily, reaching up to look through the window as Lieutenant Schiff worked on opening the lock. "Oz, report." 

"Sorry, Michael. Oz is too busy having a tearful reunion with Serena," a female voice said over the com-link.

"Izzy? Where are you guys, anyway?"

She paused. "Alex says we're pretty far from you. We're gonna try to let out the prisoners on this end and meet up with you guys after."

"Okay, we'll be waiting." He turned to the man working on the lock. "Schiff, how long 'til you pop this?"

"Just a few seconds, sir." As he finished speaking, there was a beeping sound as the electronic code was broken and the tumblers released. 

"It's about time you guys showed up," Kyle complained as the door swung open. He patted Michael on the back in greeting as he stepped out into the cramped room that held him captive for 30 hours. 

"You're lucky we even bothered," Michael said with a smirk.

 Kyle put on a fake wounded look. "I'm hurt, really."

'Michael!' Maria shrieked worriedly, in his head. 'You have to hurry up! We just intercepted a radio transmission on Khivar's com-system. They know you're there!'

'What? How do they know?'

'Same way we did. They picked up on your radio signals.'

Michael cursed under his breath. "Come on, we have to move!" he ordered, pushing his soldiers forward in the direction he guessed the nearest exit was in. "Khivar's people know we're here. They're tracking our com signals, so radio silence from now on. Hustle!"

****************************** *******************************

"Oz! We have to head out now!" Isabel said urgently. "They know we're here." She bit her lip, looking through the bars at the rebels still imprisoned. Her gaze shifted to the soldier working on the locks. "How much longer?"

"A few seconds on this one, milady," he answered. "The decoder is faulty." 

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. She really wished she had her powers right now. Damn the Antarian atmosphere. "Okay, hurry it up, then move to the next as fast as you can. We're not leaving anyone behind." 

With a series of beeps, the lock popped open and the soldier moved on to the next one. The prisoners rushed out of their cells, thanking her profusely for rescuing them. She smiled graciously at them, even though inside she was a nervous wreck.

'Izzy, they're coming! Get out of there, now!' Alex yelled in her head.

'Alex, we're getting them out. There's only one more cell to go. It looks like all of ours were on this end.'

'But Isabel…'

'No, Alex we're not leaving anyone…' She trailed off as she heard the pounding of army boots echoing off the stonewalls of the dungeons. 'Oh crap.'

'Izzy? Isabel? What is it? Are you okay?'

"Private, how much longer?" Oz asked hurriedly. 

"A minute at least," he said frustrated. 

"Isabel, come on we have to go. There's no way…"

"No! We're not leaving anybody behind," she insisted.

"Please, princess, we are not worth it," a woman said from within the cell. Her cellmates nodded in solemn agreement. "You must leave us."

"No, I won't. The private will just have to work faster."

The footsteps grew louder as they neared them. Serena grabbed her arm and tried pulling her in the opposite direction. Isabel shrugged her off. "We'll just have to fight them," she said determinedly.

Oz sighed in defeat, knowing that it was hopeless, and moved to stand beside her. He turned to the Private picking the locks. "Hurry it up." He nodded briskly with a curt "Yes sir", not turning away from what he was doing. 

Isabel, Serena, Oz, Ava and the other two soldiers raised their weapons as the shadows of the enemy appeared on the walls as they turned the corner. Isabel's finger curled around the trigger as the sounds of the enemies' panting became audible as they came into earshot.

********************************* *********************************

'Damn it, we're lost!' Michael thought as they rounded yet another corner in the maze.

'Spaceboy, I told you you were going the wrong way. You never listen! Hello! I have a map!"

'Yeah, yeah. Where do we go now?' Michael asked, annoyed.

'Turn right here.'

Michael jogged around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks as he was confronted by a row of guns. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. 

"Whoa, whoa, Isabel, it's just us," he rushed, keeping his distance. He heard her sigh in relief as she dropped her arm to her side, re-holstering her gun. There was a beeping noise from behind her as the lock to the last cell opened.

"Michael, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be on the other side of the block."

"Baby bro here got lost," Rath said with a smirk. Michael glared at him. Traitor.

"How could he get lost? Maria has the map," Oz asked confused.

Michael scowled as he heard Maria's laughter in his head. Why did they all have to gang up on him? So he had a bad sense of direction. So sue him. It wasn't illegal.

"Excuse me, sirs, ma'ams," Private Khiernn interrupted, "Perhaps we should leave now? Before we get caught?"

Michael smirked. At least someone was on his side. He had to remember to promote him later.

'Okay, Spaceboy, just continue down the path you're on. Take the third right, then the second left. That should take you to a set of stairs. Go down them…"

'Down? Why?'

'It leads to an underground tunnel that comes out in the backyard of the palace. It's a secret passage, I guess so the king can get out if the palace got attacked. If you go up the stairs you end up in the King's bedroom.'

Following Maria's instructions, they made their way down the corridor, the other prisoners calling out to them for release. 

****************************** ******************************

"Ma'am."

Kaylanna's head shot up as the voice interrupted her study of the map. She was checking out the layout of the palace grounds, for places where Khivar's troops could be hiding. Their part of the plan was going brilliantly. She could feel it. They were close to taking over the palace. She was sure of it. All she had to do was check for hidden trenches and weapons. She couldn't allow Khivar's army to catch them unawares when they stormed the castle.

"The enemy has called a retreat. They know that the saviours have entered the castle and…"

"They're going to re-capture their prisoners," she said in realisation. She cussed under her breath. "Okay, move forward. No mercy. Anyone you see heading back to the palace I want you to shoot, bomb, and stab, anything to keep them from returning. We can't let the others get captured. We don't know the condition of the captives, so we don't know how they would handle an attack now." She stood, looking him in the eye. "This is one battle we are going to win, Major."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, saluting her before hurrying out of the tent.

Pulling out a pair of binoculars, she strode out of the tent. It was set up on a hill just a few miles south of the battlefield; the perfect spot for watching the warriors at work. Adjusting the focus on her binoculars, she peered over the land. The Major was right. The battle was now even closer to the palace walls, only a few metres away. Some of Khivar's back-line had already started running back to the castle. She turned, trying to spot the snipers they'd placed on nearby rooftops. She smiled as she caught the glare of a gun pointed at the retreating soldiers. One by one, the runners dropped dead in their tracks, while others wildly searched for the source of the shots. Fortunately, the soldiers were shot by the snipers before their positions could be given away.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain. Her hands dropped to her stomach as she dropped to her knees in agony. Slowly, in shock, her eyes shifted down to her fingers. The dark red liquid oozed slowly out, draining her of warmth, of life. 

Vaguely, she could hear people yelling and shooting, but her vision was blurry as her body made its slow descent to the cold, hard ground.

Then all went black.

************************* ************************** 

Isabel skidded to a stop in front of a rusty old metal door. It somehow seemed more opposing than the others. More condemning. It drew her closer, calling for her to open it and see what was inside.

"Isabel, what are you doing?"  She didn't answer, still mesmerized by the door.

"Iz, come on, we have to move!" Rath exclaimed, latching onto her arm and trying to pull her forward.

"No, there's something here, I know it," she insisted, pulling away. "We have to open it."

"Iz, there's no time!" Serena said firmly. In the distance, they could hear the guards coming.

"No, no, my instincts tell me there's something here. Something we have to find. Private, unlock the door."

"But princess, there isn't enough time. There are five electronic locks on this thing and we only have two decoders, one of which is on the fritz. And even if we could get those open, there's still a manual lock and I wouldn't have a clue how to open it."

"You can't open manual locks, but you can decode electric ones?" she asked in disbelief.

"They're not used much anymore. It's no longer a part of our training," Lieutenant Schiff added.

Isabel growled in frustration and kicked the door. "Okay, I'll pick the manual lock, you get the others."

"Isabel, be practical…" Michael started. 

She snorted, dropping to her knees in front of the lock and pulling out a hairpin. "Please. Coming from you, I'm insulted."

"This way, I can hear them!" they heard a voice call from down the hall, followed by the pounding of army boots on the cold, hard floor.

They all looked frantically at each other, then back at Isabel, who was diligently working on the lock, refusing to budge. 

Michael turned to the thirty odd rebels they'd just rescued, and gave them the directions to the escape tunnel, ordering them to continue without them. They protested, but finally gave in to the orders from their General.

"Isabel, stand back. I'm gonna blast it off," Michael said as soon as they were out of earshot, decisively raising his hands in front of him.

"Michael, we don't have our powers here."

"We don't." He smirked, his eyes flashing red as he drew on the power deep within himself and fired an energy blast directly at the group of locks. There was a shower of sparks as the electronic keypads shorted out. "But Deimon does."

The door groaned as its old rusted hinges were forced to turn, and after years of settling in the same spot, it was moved. It swung open slowly and ominously, inch by inch revealing a dark, windowless room that appeared to have not seen the light of day in ages. The princess of Antar stepped forward looking around expectantly. 

"It's empty," she said, disappointed. Oz followed close behind her and wrinkled his nose.

"And it smells…" he frowned, sniffing the air. "Someone's here." His green eyes scanned the dark room, taking in the shapes. Especially that shaking lump in the corner. "Over there," he said, gesturing to it.

Isabel slowly walked over to it. "It's okay…we're not gonna hurt you," she whispered, reaching out her hand. The figure shrank away from her, shaking even more. "We only want to help." The figure lifted its head. Isabel gasped and stepped away, bringing her hand to her mouth.

From the shape of her face and her features, Isabel could only guess that it was a woman. There was a long jagged scar running down her face, delicate features marred by the vicious marking. She was covered in a dark, toxic-smelling goo from head to toe. Her clothes were torn and battered and she was barefooted. Her brown eyes darted nervously from side to side like a mouse caught between three ferocious cats. Her long hair stuck to various once-open wounds on her forehead, mingling within the scabs and becoming one with the skin. Isabel forced down her disgust and reached out to her once again, knowing that somehow she was important to all this. She looked from her eyes to her hand repeatedly, before finally grasping the proffered hand and pulling herself up.

Suddenly, the sound of gunshots could be heard. They were close, just a few doors down. Isabel pulled her to the entrance and peeped through the doorway. Khivar's men had finally caught up with them, armed and ready to kill on sight. Rath, Faith, Michael, Kyle, Oz, Serena, Schiff and Khiernn were working hard on holding them back. Ava was crouched in the doorway opposite, fiddling with a box. She flicked one last switch and grinned in triumph as the digits "10" appeared on the front in red and immediately started counting down. 

"Down!" she yelled, as she tossed it over their heads. It landed right in front of Khivar's minions. Eight rebel leaders and two soldiers ducked and covered their heads as the digits on the box turned to "00" and the bomb exploded, taking 15 of Khivar's men with it.

They spared each other but one glance, before taking off down the tunnel. They were home free.

*************************** ***********************

Well? What'd ya think? How'd you like it?


	2. Chapter Two

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey all! Thanks to Roswell26 and frances2 for your awesome feedback!! Sorry I took so long. The chapter was giving me hell. Apparently I cannot do the drama thing. *shrugs* Oh well. Anyway, it's here now, so onward through the pages.

CHAPTER TWO

"So how's he doing?" Michael asked, looking at Max worriedly. His expression was blank and he didn't so much as blink in the five minutes they'd been standing there. From the looks of it, he hadn't even moved from the spot they left him in when they went on the rescue mission. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. Catatonic.

"There's no change," Maria said sadly. Michael wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "What if he never gets better? I mean, he hasn't moved since Liz…" She still couldn't bring herself to say it. How could you admit to yourself that your best friend was dead? That the person you spent your entire childhood with was never coming back? A single tear descended down her cheek. 

"I guess it's just his way of dealing," Michael said. "Once he works it all out in his head, he'll snap out of it."

"And what about Ava?"

Michael sighed and shook his head, closing his eyes. She took it harder and in a far different way than any of them expected. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rebels in the base let out a cheer as the Saviours walked through the front door unscathed. Maria ran up to Michael jumping into his arms and smothering him with kisses as she ran her hands over him, checking him for injuries. After handing over the rescued woman from the dungeons, Isabel went off with Alex into another corner preferring only a tight hug and whispered greetings instead of giving the whole base a show.

Ava's gaze flitted over the flurry of activity, and a wide grin graced her features. She was glad to be home, with her own people. That visit to the palace dungeons was an eye opener. It made her appreciate what she had at the rebel base more. She appreciated her freedom more. Back at the dungeons she felt as if a part of her was ripped away from her. She was away from her friends, her family and her followers. She was away from Zan, and although it was only for a day and barely across town, it felt like she was incomplete and it made her stay seem longer. Now she was back and she felt better, but there was still a small pit of emptiness in her heart that she couldn't figure out. 

Frowning, she scanned the crowd, blue eyes searching out for the dark brown pools she so longed to drown in. She began to get frantic as she did her fifth sweep of the room, still not finding Zan.

"Where's Zan?" Her voice was soft, but somehow the whole room heard her and froze. The rebels all took a silent cue and hustled out of the room. Isabel's eyes welled up and she looked away guiltily, burying her head in Alex's chest. Maria stared up at her sadly. Oz coughed a little and looked away. "Wh-where is he? I-is he hurt? Guys?"

Rath sighed and walked up to her slowly, pulling her into his arms. "Av…" he started, not knowing how to break it to her. "He, uh, Zan…he's dead." Ava shook her head in disbelief. "I'm sorry," Rath whispered, rubbing her back.

"No. Nonono. You're lying," she said, pulling away from him, tears flowing freely. Her eyes darted frantically from one face to the other. Searching for something, anything that would tell her they were joking. A snicker. A smile. Something. "No, this is a joke. You're joking. It isn't funny! Rath, it's not funny!" She was screaming then, backing away from him. He calmly stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, despite her struggles and rocked her gently as she sobbed against his chest and tears of grief soaking into his shirt.

Finally, she pulled away, sniffling and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands. She huffed in frustration as her face refused to dry. "I want to see him," she said quietly.

"Ava, maybe…" Isabel started.

"No. I need to see him." Rath nodded and led her through the base towards the morgue.

The room was still, the only movement coming from the two royals that just entered. The plain white walls and stainless steel furniture made the room look cold and heartless. Empty, though there were many bodies lying on silver tables, covered in white sheets. Rath led Ava past the fallen soldiers through a white door, leading into a small room. This one was also white, but there was a blood red stripe across the top, a sign that this was a royal room. A part of the morgue reserved especially for the royals. Inside, there were two beds set up on either side of the room. 

There, on the bed on the left lay Zan. Ava stepped closer to him, resting a hand on his chest; feeling for the heartbeat she knew wouldn't be there. She sighed. He looked so peaceful laying there, his head rested on a soft white pillow on white silk sheets. He was covered up to the neck in a heavy red blanket. If she didn't know any better, she would swear he was just sleeping. She bent over and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head, then on his cold lips, squeezing her eyes shut as she did so. Her breath came out in a shudder as she pulled away. It was then she glanced at the other bed.

"Liz too?" she asked. Rath just nodded. She returned her gaze to her fallen lover.

"What happened?"

Rath sighed and scratched his eyebrow. "It was when you were taken." Ava was stroking Zan's hair. "Zan saw you get knocked out and-and he tried to save you. He rushed the guy. Straight up football tackle. You should've seen him."

Ava smiled affectionately. "Big idiot. He probably forgot he had a gun in his hand."

"Yeah, well, he remembered soon enough. He just started pistol whippin' the guy, yelling at him, he was so pissed off." Rath shook his head. "I tried to get to him. I really did." He ran a hand through his hair. "But it was all in, like slow mo, instant replay mode. He was bent over you trying to wake you up and this guy, that bastard just shot him. Right in the back."

"Is he dead?"

"The guy? Yeah, Izzy must've emptied a whole clip in his head. There wasn't much left of it when she was done."

She smiled sadly and sniffled. "Good." She started nodding her head. "Then its my fault," she mumbled so low Rath didn't hear her. She slowly turned to leave the room, her head bent. Rath put an arm around her shoulder in comfort as they made their way back to her room. 

"You gonna be okay?" he asked as they stopped in front of her door.

"Yeah, I'll be fine…I'm just-I'm fine." 

"You sure?" She nodded, giving him a watery smile. "Okay. If you need anything, me and Faith are right next door, okay?"

"Okay."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They'd assumed that she'd spend the rest of the night, perhaps the rest of the week in her room crying and moping. What she actually did was a surprise. When Isabel and Maria went to check on her ten minutes later, she was gone. All she left was a note on her bed saying: _I had to. This ends now._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel and Maria sprinted to the communications room, knocking over a few limping rebels on the way. They each paged their significant others in their special way, instructing them to meet them there. 

They were already hunched over the tracking system when the last of the Saviours finally showed up. 

"What's going on?" Serena asked.

"Ava's gone," Isabel stated, shoving the note in her hand. Alex shoved past them and sat in front of the computer, pulling up Ava's own personal tracking signal.

"She's at the palace," he said, slowly, "right smack in the middle of the battlefield."

They didn't even hesitate before arming themselves and heading out into the fray to find their wayward queen. 

It was a bloodbath. Bodies littered the land before the palace like a deadly carpet of flesh, blood and bone. The ranks had thinned as the battle waged on, and there, leading the massacre was the petite form of Ava, hacking away at her sorrow and taking her revenge as one by one Khivar's soldiers fell. And it was hers. In the twenty minutes she'd been out there, she'd moved the ranks forward, leading them in a storm of the palace gates. It was something they would not have braved on their own without the orders of the higher ups. 

Michael, Maria, Isabel and Alex stormed through the fight, making their way to assist their irate friend. If the castle was to be taken tonight, then they would all fight. It would be difficult, but the victory would be won.

Seeing that Khivar's men were about to retreat, Ava thought she'd beat them to it, a better, easier plan forming in her head. "Retreat!" she called to her soldiers. They weren't accustomed to taking orders from her so they turned to the two generals. They glanced at her in confusion, then shrugged and repeated the order. As one, the rebel army moved back a few hundred feet. Khivar's army stood by, confused. The rebels were winning, why the retreat?

"Ava, what are you doing?" Rath asked her quietly as he watched them give up all the ground they'd worked for.

"The exact opposite of what they expect," she replied. She began to talk into her comm. link. "Bomb units. Prepare to fire." She waited for the right moment. The moment when the last few of her men were out of firing range and, if she was lucky, the moment when the last few coward stragglers from the enemy's side to returned to the fight now that it was seemingly less dismal. "Fire!"

The rebel army watched in amazement as several black boxes were launched from various rooftops, courtesy of the snipers. They all instinctively got down as the boxes simultaneously exploded, creating a boom as loud as an atomic bomb and a billow of smoke that clouded the skies, and a fire that warmed the entire city. There was no doubt that Khivar's army was done. They couldn't have possibly survived that explosion. Nevertheless, the rebels stood by, their guns cocked as the smoke dissipated. When it was clear, the only thing left was body parts.

They'd won.

Antar was finally theirs again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After her stint as warlord, Ava collapsed in a sobbing heap, the adrenalin from her raging anger gone, leaving only the grief of a shattered soul. They could do nothing but watch as the conqueror of this fight, the queen of this planet, broke down under the weight of her King's death, and it broke their hearts. All they could do was hoist her up and carry her back to the base to mourn in peace. They'd put her in her room three hours ago and she had yet to come out.

Michael sighed and shook his head as his thoughts returned to the scene before him. Max. There was nothing they could do to help him now. He had to come out and face reality first. He nudged Maria towards the door. "Come on. Let's go." Maria nodded, casting one final glance at Max before following him out the door.

****************************** **************************

All he could do was watch. Watch her die. Over and over. And he didn't save her. Not once in the 918 times he watched the same scene. Again and again. 

He was completely useless.

A total waste of space.

He didn't deserve her. And she didn't deserve to die. Not for him. Never for him.

Max Evans sat in his chair and watched the scene unfold again before him, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the horrific sight, to even blink the images away, his ears unable to block out the sounds.

He heard the sounds of the gunshots. The screaming. The crumbling of the walls that were hit by explosives. He remembered concentrating on the men coming from the right as Liz covered the left.

He watched the screen projected on the blank wall of his mind as the images moved in slow motion.

"Max!" Liz had cried. He spun around seeing a knife slicing through the dusty air, spinning menacingly as it headed for its intended target. His heart. He barely had time to process it before she dove in front of him, taking the knife in her own heart. Her body slammed back against him, knocking them both over.

He could still feel the blood seeping through her shirt onto his hands, her wide brown eyes staring trustingly into his. But she forgot. He couldn't heal her this time. Not here. Not on Antar. The red sun was cruel in stripping him of the powers he'd grown so accustomed to and now…then…all he could do was watch the light fade out of her eyes as she let out her final breath.

***************************** *****************************

Meanwhile, Michael and Maria headed over to the infirmary where many of their troops lay attached to machines of all shapes and sizes. They made their way past dozens of beds before finally getting to the back of the room where all the critical cases were held. There, at the very end of the room, they saw two figures sitting next to a bed.

It had been another slap in the face of the Saviours when Major Haess hobbled into the base a few hours ago carrying a limp Kaylanna in his arms, blood covering his clothes and skin. Her skin was pale as her life force slowly oozed out of the bullet hole in her stomach. Dirt covered her face where she fell face first to the ground. Khivar's army had discovered their camp on the hill and launched an attack, destroying a lot of their equipment and killing many. The rebels, however had managed to take them out eventually. Kaylanna was the first to go down. They went straight for the head of the group, but weren't prepared for the strong body that refused to go down with a fight. If they hadn't fought so hard, Kaylanna would surely be lying dead in a pool of her own blood out on that hill right now.

Her twin sister, Cortenia stood constant vigil at her bedside, refusing to leave until she woke up. Surprisingly, Major Haess was also watching over her at her bedside. Maria took mental note of that fact as she moved to stand next to her grandmother. It was strange to even think of her as a grandmother since technically, by Antarian years, she was only 34 and she looked it, too. When they'd stepped through the portal a year ago all the shifting Kaylanna and Cortenia had done on Earth undid itself in what looked like a very painful manner. 

She remembered how Cortenia and Kaylanna convulsed as their bodies forcefully and painfully shifted themselves into their original forms, or at least the forms they would have been in had they stayed on Antar. Light emanated from Cortenia's skin as her older body tightened and reformed. Her hair grew longer and changed colour to its natural blonde shade. A lot of her wrinkles smoothed over making her look years younger. Kaylanna's body did the opposite, instead expanding slightly and gaining a few age marks. Her transformation looked a lot less painful considering she didn't have much to change. When they finally stilled, they were in the form of two identical 33-year-old women. It seemed that returning to their home planet and atmosphere took away their shape-shifting powers and thus their ability to live in an unnatural form. It was Mother Nature's way of restoring the balance. 

She was yanked out of her reverie by a crash and a cry from the next room. Max's room. Maria immediately turned and ran to the room they'd temporarily given to Max until his catatonia wore off. 

He was storming about screaming incoherently as he ransacked the room, knocking over tables, ripping the sheets off the bed, ripping the red curtains off the wall. The room was a complete mess and so was Max. His face was beet red with anger and grief, tears streaking down his chiselled cheeks in torrents, and his hair lay plastered to his sweat soaked skin. When he finished overturning every single piece of furniture in the room, he took to punching the walls. Maria rushed to stop him as his fists became bloody under the punishment he was inflicting on them.

"Max, stop it! This isn't the way!" she yelled, putting a hand on his arm to stop the movement. He stared at her with a pain filled gaze, then sighed defeatedly, his shoulders drooping and his head hung low in infinite sadness. She tried to pull him into a hug, but he weakly pulled away and stiffly walked out of the room, looking much like a zombie. Michael and Maria exchanged a look before following him out. 

They found him kneeling next to Liz's bed in the Royal section of the morgue. He had his hand resting over the spot he knew the wound was, he should know, he'd seen her get stabbed enough times in his head. His eyes were screwed shut in painful concentration as he tried to access powers he very well knew weren't there.

"Max," Michael said softly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Max wrenched away from his touch and tried again to heal her. "Max. Come on. You know you can't. Don't do this to yourself."

"No, Michael. I have to try," he said determinedly.

Max remained in that position long moments after before sighing in defeat and falling back on his heels, burying his head in his knees. 

"Oh Max," said Isabel, who'd just joined them a few minutes before. She shook her head sadly as she took in the shaking form of her brother. "I'm so sorry." She crouched down next to him and stoked his hair gently.

"I miss her so much, Izzy," he whispered.

"I know. I understand," she said soothingly.

He pulled away. "No. You can't understand. None of you can."

"Max, of course we understand," Isabel insisted. "Me, Ava, Michael, we all know how it feels when the one you love is killed. We know." She rubbed his back. "We've all been there. But beating yourself up isn't gonna help. It's not gonna bring her back, Max. You know Liz wouldn't blame you for this."

"But it's my fault that…"

"Max, stop it. It's not your fault."

He was silent for a while. "I keep seeing it. And she always dies. And-and it's always my fault." He was rambling now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Isabel looked up at Michael helplessly as she watched her brother fall apart. He just shrugged. He didn't have a clue what to do. Max was acting like a complete nutcase and he didn't know what to do about it.

"Sh-she wanted me to save her. She was waiting and I didn't do anything…" His voice was shaking. "I did it before…why couldn't I do it now? Why? Why?"

************************** ***********************

Jienne Nykheb frowned as she wrote on her clipboard. She was doing a borderline medical check-up on the prisoner the Princess had brought in from the rescue mission. Through the whole time she had been examining her she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen this woman before. Perhaps when she was a child, before the war. No, it was definitely before the war because the scars all over her body dated back more than ten years. This woman had likely been locked in that dungeon since the war began. She doubted they came from before she was locked up because they definitely weren't properly treated.

Jienne had seen a lot since she became a doctor with the Rebels, but nothing could prepare her for what she saw when she cut open the ragged gown their mystery patient had been wearing. Hundreds of scars trailed up and down her body. Her torso. Her legs. Her back. There was even a long jagged scar down the middle of her face. The scars were made in smooth lines that should have healed cleanly, but the skin around them were stretched and warped, like they were aggravated further after being made. Those were definitely torture signs if she'd ever see them. And that was just on her stomach and legs. Her left arm was bent at an odd angle, like it'd been broken and they'd left it to heal in any random position. She had thick grooves of scab, criss-crossing haphazardly across her pale back. It looked like she was whipped. Often. And from the bloody state of her dress, her captors never bothered to cover her wounds. Fortunately, or maybe not, none of the wounds seemed to be fresh, like they'd just left her to die of infection from the gashes or maybe just plain starvation, if her gross lack of weight was any indication of how often she was fed. In her opinion, this woman was extremely strong to have survived those conditions for as long she had. Put in the same position, Jienne was sure that she would have killed herself by now.

Shaking her head sadly, she adjusted the woman's blanket, tucking it around her snugly, before turning to leave the room. A soft groan made her pause as she moved to shut off the lights. She moved closer to hear what the mystery woman was saying.

"…Leave…" she groaned.

"Did you want me to leave you?" she asked, leaning closer.

The woman shifted her head to the side, her eyes fluttering. "Don't…"

"You want me to stay?"

She nodded slightly, finally managing to open her eyes. She winced as the bright lights in the room made themselves known, giving her an instant headache. The doctor hurried over to the light switch, turning the knob to dim the lights.

"Is that better?" The woman ventured to open her eyes again and sighed in relief. She looked around the small room a bit before returning her gaze to the young doctor.

"Who…?" she asked hoarsely, her throat straining from lack of use.

"I'm Dr. Jienne Nykheb," she answered smiling reassuringly at her patient. "You're at the Eastern Rebel base." The woman looked confused. "Do you know where you are? Which planet?"

"A-Antar." She moaned as the pain in her throat worsened. Jienne walked over to a desk table in the opposite corner of the room, returning with a glass of water. She set it down on the beside table

"Up," Jienne commanded. The bed automatically obeyed the order, rising at a very slow pace. When it reached a comfortable sitting position she said, "Stop." She fluffed the pillows behind her head and moved one down to support her back. "Are you comfortable?" On receiving a nod, she picked up the glass and lifted it to the woman's lips. "Drink this. It'll make your throat feel better." The woman gulped greedily at the cool red liquid, almost choking in her haste. "Slowly, it's not going anywhere," Jienne admonished as she mopped up some of the spilt water. "Is that better now?" She received another nod. "Good. Could you tell me your name?"

"Siare," she answered shakily.

"Siare. That's a lovely name." She smiled. "Tell me, Siare, are you feeling any pain? Any discomfort?"

"No."

"Any dizziness? Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Two."

Jienne nodded, jotting something down in her notes. "Good. Now, Siare…"

"Where…the girl…"

"Girl?"

"She…came…for me."

"The Princess? Princess Isabel?"

"Prin…" She looked confused.

"Yes, she's the princess. Would you like me to get her?"

"Y-yes."

Jienne smiled and patted Siare's hand gently. "Okay. I'll be back in a moment. I'm gonna put the bed back down, okay? I want you to try not to move too much. Especially your left arm. It was broken and healed in the wrong position, so it had to be reset. It should feel okay for now, but the pain medication will wear off in a few hours. I should be able to give you another dose before the pain kicks in, though, so you should be fine. Okay?" Siare nodded silently. That pain would probably be nothing compared to what she was used to, anyway. "Good. I'll go tell the Princess you're awake."

With that, she opened the door and stepped out into the busy hallway. She was saved the trip to the Royal quarters at the other end of the base by a glimpse of shiny blonde hair in one of the extra infirmary rooms that could only belong to the Princess. She paused at the door, taking in the scene. Princess Isabel, Lord Alex, Lord Kyle, Lady Maria, and General Michael were all gathered around a bed watching the sleeping form of King Max. Isabel was seated at the edge of his bed, gently stroking his hair as he slept fitfully. She hesitantly knocked on the open door.

"Uh…excuse me, P-princess, I-I'm sorry to i-i-interrupt you," she stuttered uncomfortably, suddenly nervous now that she was under the curious gaze of half of 'The Saviours'.

"No, it's okay, doctor…"

"Nykheb. Jienne Nykheb," she said, bowing her head slightly. "The, um, prisoner…Siare…she's awake. She was asking for you." She blushed and ducked her head. "I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have bothered you with that…"

"No, it's fine, Jienne, thanks for telling me," Isabel said as she stood up, smoothing imaginary creases in her shirt. She cast one last glance at her brother before walking over to the doctor. "Lead the way."

Isabel, Alex, Michael, Maria and Kyle trailed behind Jienne as she led them the short distance to Siare's room. 

"Rath?" Michael said into his comm. link.

"Yeah?" came the breathless reply. He'd obviously interrupted something.

"Our guest is up."

"We'll be right there."

"Bring Oz and Serena with you, will ya?"

"On it."

Michael disconnected and looked up as they stopped in front of a door. Jienne opened the door and lead them into a dimly lit room, explaining that the patient needed time to adjust to the new environment and that the light seemed to hurt her. On a small bed in the middle of the room lay a thin woman. Her blonde hair lay limp about her scarred face as she lay there seemingly asleep.

"Siare?" Jienne said softly. "The Royals are here. Are you awake?"

Siare rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes, dull brown eyes startled by all the new faces. Jienne smiled at her and nodded to the Saviours, quickly leaving the room.

"You…you saved me," she said quietly, staring at Isabel. Isabel smiled graciously and nodded her head. "Up," she commanded to her bed, letting it raise her to a sitting position. "C-could we turn on the lights so I can see you properly?"

"Sure," said Kyle, turning the switch to brighten the room a bit. Siare squinted a bit as her eyes fought to readjust to the new light. When they finally adjusted, she studied all their faces, looking especially delighted when she saw Isabel and Michael's faces clearly for the first time. 

Michael nudged Isabel in the ribs and whispered, "I know her. How do I know her?" 

Isabel just nodded. "I know. She looks familiar to me too."

"My…" Siare was interrupted by a gasp from the doorway. 

Everyone turned to find Rath staring at her in shock. "Oh my god…"

********************* ********************

Whoever can she be, huh? *****evil grin* Well, you'll just have to wait for Chapter 3. heh heh heh.

PS: Remember, the review button is your friend…well, it's my friend, but it wants to be yours too. ;) 


	3. Chapter Three

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here I am, back again. Hope you enjoy this chapter. And I wanna apologize in advance for my lake of medical knowledge and thus complete botch up of the doctors.

Thank you for the reviews, goldstranger and roswell26. I'm so glad you liked the angst. I worked really hard on it.

Anyway, onward through the pages…

CHAPTER THREE

He paced the length of his office in a fiery rage, hot enough to melt the toughest of steels and explode the biggest of stars, growling and muttering under his breath in anger. The Royals were gaining ground, he could feel it. The smugness of those impertinent brats could transverse miles of space and tickle his being until he was irritated enough to explode. He could just feel them. Taunting him with their self-righteous crap. Peace. Equality. Free will. The very idea sickened him. He was made to rule the planets. Him! Not some half human cloned brat. The Lythian system was made to be ruled as one, under one law. His law. And he could feel his hold of fear over the five planets slipping. This was not good. It wasn't good at all.

"Khivar," said a voice from the doorway. He turned to glare at the man that interrupted his thoughts. The man was slightly shorter than he was with long dark brown hair and cold blue eyes that shone with certain resentment of him. 

"What do you want?"

"Reports just came in from the stations on Antar. The Royals took the palace late last night. Rebel forces are rising up in all the other parts of Antar and overthrowing our armies," he said, tossing a file of papers on a large desk. Some of the papers scattered, sliding out into the open for Khivar to see. "We've lost Antar."

Khviar was seething. He snatched up a vase from his window ledge and hurled it across the room. The man flinched as the heavy ornament barely missed hitting his head before shattering on the wall behind him.

"I want you to fix this," Khivar ground out through clenched teeth. "You remember our deal?" The man nodded curtly, running slightly mismatched hands through his hair. "You fail, and it's off."

"Yeah, whatever," he said, rolling his eyes. "Can I go now?"

Khivar smirked, walking slowly over to him, like a predator. "One more thing. Take those ridiculous pieces of plastic from your eyes." He stood there silently, not making a move to obey. "That is an order, boy!" he snapped.

The man sighed in irritation and reluctantly brought his fingers up to his eyes to remove the lenses that had thus far kept him in a blissful state of denial. "Happy now?"

"Quite. Your mother would be proud."

"I somehow doubt that, Dad," Lindsey said, flopping down on a chair and picking up a random ornament, tossing it from hand to hand. "She hates your guts. Maybe even more than I do."

"Really," Khivar said, chuckling sardonically. "Son, you wound me." 

Lindsey rolled his eyes. "You know, if it wasn't for Wolfram and Hart being on my tail, I wouldn't even bother," he sneered. "In fact, I'd be first in line to help the Royals kill you."

Khivar waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, whatever," he said with a smirk. He paused, taking a seat behind his desk in a soft leather chair and leaning back. "Don't you have some work to do somewhere? I knew Celeste would do a dull job. I would have never raised you to be so…lazy and incompetent. After all, a second in command needs to be more…active. More helpful to his leader. I can tell she's as useless as ever."

Lindsey rushed him, grabbing him by the collar. "Screw you! Don't you ever talk about mom that way," he growled menacingly. "You have no right."

Khivar just stared back at him dispassionately. "Are you quite through?" he asked, calmly removing his hands and smoothing his shirt. Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned and walked over to his window, looking over his kingdom. "You know, Lindsey, as much as I enjoy having you here, this arrangement isn't working out very well."

Lindsey shrugged behind his back. "Fine," he said moving to the door. "I'll just be on my way, then." As he pulled open the door, he was greeted by two burly guards. They each grabbed an arm and dragged him back to Khivar's side.

"See, that doesn't work very well for me. We had a deal. You help me, I help you. Now, I've helped you, but what have you done?" Lindsey glared at him, struggling against the guards' grip. "Whine. Complain. Walk up and down glaring at me all day. But that's gonna change." He walked up to him and ruffled his hair. "Dear old dad has just the cure." He smiled cruelly. "We're going on a little trip," he said in a fake chipper voice.

Khivar took a step back and uttered a short familiar spell and a swirling vortex appeared behind him. The spinning mass of colours sucked in all the light from the rest of the room in a strong gust of wind, making it the brightest thing in the room. Khivar calmly stepped through, motioning for the guards to follow.

Khivar looked around the room. There were many shelves filled with canned food products and potato chips. At the far end of the room, he could see a man behind the counter staring at the wormhole, stunned. They'd landed in the middle of a convenience store. He shrugged. He'd work on his aim later. 

He turned as his guards came through with his son and closed the wormhole behind them. Immediately, one of the guards dropped him and started choking just seconds before he exploded into a cloud of dust and dissipated in the still air.

He turned to the other guard. "Antarian?"

"Yes sir," the guard answered, nodding. Khivar just shrugged and led them through the store and onto the cold streets of LA. Before them stood the massive building of Wolfram and Hart. Lindsey's eyes widened as he struggled harder.

"No! No, please!" he cried. The people passing cared little about his pleas, instead preferring to ignore his very existence.

Khivar spun on his heel and backhanded him. 

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Have some dignity, boy. No son of mine is going to beg for mercy. Especially not from me. You should know better."

Lindsey could taste blood in his mouth from where his teeth cut into his cheek when his head snapped to the side from the force of the blow. He silently licked the wound with his tongue, spitting out the blood, his head hung low, resigned to his fate.

"That's better." Khivar sniffed. "Besides, what kind of father would I be if I fed ya to the dogs. Nope. I've got a better plan."

Before Lindsey had a chance to consider what that meant, Khivar grabbed him by the head, fingers digging into his flesh as he concentrated. He screamed as he forced his way into his mind, carelessly flinging thoughts, feelings and memories into a steel mental box to be hidden in the dark recesses of his psyche. 

Visions played over the back of his eyelids as he screwed them shut under the pain of the intrusion. Visions of death, of war, of the cool, slick feel of an enemy's blood on you hands. Feelings of the pride of a first kill. The thrill of victory. The annoyance of defeat. The hatred of the enemy: The Royals. The need to grind not only their bones, but their spirits into the ground, their graves to be danced and spat upon.

He felt the raw power, the delightful tingle of evil, rushing through his veins. It felt…good.

It was great. 

He felt truly alive for the first time.

Lindsey slumped against the guard as Khivar finally let him go.

Khivar stepped away, panting harshly. It was a tough job, harder than he'd expected. His son had a strong will. Stronger than he'd expected. But he was stronger. And it was for his own good. For the greater good. 

"Lindsey?" Khivar asked, standing up straighter as he caught his breath.

The younger man finally looked up, long brown hair falling into cold grey eyes and they rose to meet his, a sinister smirk gracing his thin lips.

"Hey, Dad."

************************* **************************

"Oh my god," Rath said in shock, blinking in disbelief as he stepped closer to her. "Siare? You're still alive?"

She cocked her head to the side, looking between Rath and Michael. "Both sets survived?"

"Sort of…" he trailed off, remembering the dead body of Zan in the morgue. He turned to Isabel, who was still looking at Siare in confusion trying to place the face. "Isabel, this is Siare Xalere. Your mother."

Isabel gasped as she suddenly remembered where she'd seen her before. She was the woman in the message. The one who told them about their destiny. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten.

"Mom?" she said softly. Siare smiled brightly at her and nodded.

"Oh my God, I never thought we'd ever meet you," Isabel said in a rush, bending over to give her a hug. Siare stroked her hair lovingly with her good arm, happy tears running down her cheeks. She had hoped against hope that if she'd held out long enough in that dungeon she would live to see her children once again. The thought of them returning from Earth, full of life was all she needed to survive. 

"Oh, Vilandra, my baby girl," Siare cooed, not noticing Isabel stiffen in her arms and the others flinch around her. "I missed you so much, Lonnie." Isabel straightened abruptly and stepped away from the bed. "What's wrong?" Siare asked frowning.

"Please, don't. I'm not Lonnie or Vilandra. They did so many terrible things, I just…I'm not…my name is Isabel, " she said. Siare just looked confused.

"They?" 

"The Lonnie from my group betrayed us again…and…well…you know the original," Rath explained.

Siare nodded sadly. She'd hoped that the time away from Antar and Khivar would show her daughter the error of her ways, but at least one was good, one returned to her and that was all she could ask for, except…

"Where's Zan?"

The Saviours glanced at each other, none wanting to be the one to break a mother's heart. Rath scratched his eyebrow and shifted uncomfortably.

"Well…my Zan's a few doors down…"

"Oh good…"

"No actually, Siare, he's dead. He died yesterday…in battle." Siare gasped as tears sprung to her eyes. A day. She missed him by only a day.

"And the other?"

"He's sedated in another room," Isabel answered this time. "He was completely out of control."

"Why? Wh-what happened?"

"His fiancé jumped in front of a knife that was meant to kill him. She died in his arms and there was nothing he could do about it," Michael explained. "He couldn't handle it."

"Oh, my poor babies," she murmured, "So, Ava's dead also?"

"No, she's in her room. She only found out about Zan today when we rescued her from the dungeons," Isabel said. "She was there with us, remember?" 

She nodded, vaguely remembering her saviours, but it was fuzzy since she was so scared. Afraid that Khivar had finally remembered her there in the dungeons and decided to have another round of torture the Queen Mother. "And the other? Max's Ava?"

"Her name was Tess. She and her protector made a deal with Khivar," Isabel said bitterly. "She was supposed to get pregnant with Max's baby and deliver us to Khivar for execution."

Siare shook her head in disbelief. "My Ava? She was so sweet and innocent."

"People change," Alex said with a shrug.

"And who are you?"

"Mom, this is Alex Whitman. My boyfriend," Isabel answered, sharing a smile with Alex.

Siare made a soft sound of disapproval in her throat as she eyed Alex up and down. He was tall and thin, lanky. His black hair was cropped close to his head, but not so much that he looked bald. His bright blue eyes shone with warmth and kindness. Her gaze shifted to the others in the room. There was a slim brunette standing behind Rath, her arm around his waist as she comfortably leaned against him. The other Rath was holding hands with a petit blonde, who was standing slightly behind him, silently giving her support, but at the same time, trying not to intrude. She could see her rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand comfortingly, though. There were three others there that she still didn't recognise.

She cleared her throat. "Your…protectors didn't give you the books? You didn't get my message?"

"What book? The destiny book?" Michael scoffed. "We couldn't even read the damn thing."

"What message?" Rath asked.

"There was a message in the orbs, she told us about our mission. Who we were in our past lives," Isabel explained, glancing back at Michael. "Who we were meant to be with."

Rath studied Siare for a moment, before shaking his head in disbelief. "You mean how she wanted us to pair up. I don't believe this. You were still trying to control our lives from light-years away. Siare, me and Lon, it didn't work then, it won't work now. Three times is enough to see it'll never work."

Isabel wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought. "I have to agree. Just the thought of being with Michael or Rath." She shuddered. "It's disgusting."

"Hey! I'm standing right here," Rath and Michael said at the same time.

Isabel rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. It's like incest." Michael and Rath nodded in agreement.

Siare sighed. "I just wanted you to be happy…and safe."

"I know," Rath said, patting her leg. "But you really suck at matchmaking."

Siare chuckled a bit. "I suppose," she said. "Well, do you want to introduce me?"

Rath sighed in relief that she wasn't going to push it. He was surprised, actually. Usually once she got something in her head, there was nothing that could stop her from doing it. Ten years in a dungeon would probably do that to a person.

"Sure," he said. "This is Faith Whitman, my girlfriend. She's Alex's adoptive sister." He embellished when he saw the look of recognition on her face at Faith's last name. Then he pointed to Maria. "And that's Maria Deluca, Michael's girlfriend. And the others are Kyle, Serena and Oz."

 "So you're the two that tamed the wild beast." Siare smiled warmly at them, leaning forward. "You know, if they get too out of hand, I know a couple of tricks..." 

"Ma!" Rath exclaimed.

Siare gasped, tears springing to her eyes. He called her 'Ma'. He hadn't done that since she announced his betrothal to Vilandra. It meant that finally, after fifteen years and a whole lifetime, he'd forgiven her. She never thought she'd see the day.

"Don't worry, Rathikins, I won't scare her off," she said with a laugh, know the effect that nickname had on him. 

Michael snorted. "Rathikins?" Rath groaned, rolling his eyes as his friends struggled to keep a straight face. Michael and Kyle didn't even bother, laughing openly at him. "Finally! You and me, Siare," he said, gesturing to Rath. "We gotta talk." Siare giggled, nodding.

"Mikey, you do know that any dirt you get on me is dirt on you, right?" 

"No way, you're the only Rath here, bro," Michael pointed out. "I'm Deimon, remember? No mom, no fun childhood stories."

Rath rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath.

"Language, _Rathikins,_" Serena said from the corner, taking great delight in his discomfort. "In front of the parent, too. Tsk tsk."

"Can we drop it now?"

"I dunno, it kinda catchy," Faith teased.

"Aw, not you too." He pouted at his girlfriend, trying to gain sympathy. 

"I wonder if Cortenia knows…" Michael mused, grinning evilly.

"You wouldn't dare," Rath growled.

"Oh, grams'll just love this," Maria said. 

"Yeah, I bet!" Serena laughed. She winced as a sharp pain sliced through her skull. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temples with her fingers as her friends continued to banter back and forth.

"You alright?" Oz asked quietly, rubbing her back.

"Yeah, I just-ah!" She cried out as another shot of pain exploded in her head, making her fall back into Oz's arms in agony. The group stopped, looking back at the two. Kyle ran off to get a doctor.

"Serena!" 

"It hurts," she moaned, tears streaming down her cheeks, eyes screwed tightly shut.

"What? What hurts?" he asked, sinking to the floor with her in his arms. 

Just then, Kyle came back with Dr. Nykheb in tow. Jienne dropped to her knees in front of Serena and took her pulse, then forced open her eyes to check her pupil dilation. Serena wrenched away from her and started rocking back and forth, chanting.

"Make it stop, make it stop," she mumbled over and over, as Oz whispered soothingly at her.

Jienne leaned back and looked to the others, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, there's not much I can do. I don't have much experience with human physiology. I could give her something for the pain, but I'm not sure how it would work on a full human," she said apologetically.

"What about half humans?" Maria asked.

"Well, yeah, I'm prepared for hybrids because of the Royals, but…"

"Serena's half human," Oz interrupted her rambling.

Jienne froze with her mouth hanging half open. "What's the other half?"

"Carnasian."

Jienne nodded her head. "Good. Okay. I can work that." She scurried out of the room, returning soon after with a syringe. Before she could even inject it into her veins, Serena's eyes rolled back into her head as she slipped into unconsciousness. Jienne tossed the syringe aside. "Come, help me get her to the room next door, I can do a head scan on her from there."

Oz gently lifted her into his arms, carried her limp body into the other room and rested her on the bed. The others followed behind silently as the doctor ran off to another part of the medical ward to get the equipment she needed. A few minutes later, she returned with a handheld cerebral scanner and a white laptop computer. She pressed a button on the scanner and studied the screen as a laser beam bathed Serena's forehead in a soft yellow light. As it swept over her, a computerised picture of her brain appeared on the screen. When it was done, the beam retracted into the small silver box. Jienne then connected the scanner to the laptop using a thin cable and uploaded the information into the computer. Sitting at the bedside table she tapped a few keys on the keyboard and brought up another image on the screen.

"Okay," she muttered, studying the two pictures. She turned to the others. "Okay, I've called up a picture of a healthy human brain and compared it to Lady Serena's…"

"Wait, you don't know what it's supposed to look like?" Isabel asked.

"No, I'm not really trained for this. The basics I know. Broken bones, cuts and scrapes I can do, but the human brain and the chemicals in the human body? I haven't reached far enough in my training," she explained. "The only ones really experienced with that are either dead or severely injured from the attack on the Northern Base. You see, since they were the only really qualified doctors, they kind of tagged along with the humans because none of the rest of us would know what to do. Not yet, anyway. It was probably a bad idea, now that I think about it. My tutor is in a coma right now." She paused for a second as she looked at the pictures. "The last one I know of is in the Southern Base. I've sent the scan to him; I'll have to wait for a reply. Until then…" she trailed off helplessly.

"Well, is there anything wrong with her that you can see?" Maria asked.

Jienne shook her head. "It's the same. Look," she said turning the screen so they could all see. "Her brain is basically healthy. Nothing completely out of the ordinary. From the information I've pulled up, there aren't any signs of anything seriously wrong, but I need Dr. Gynell's confirmation. Perhaps there's something that's not showing up the same since she's a Carnasian/human hybrid. I mean, unless you know of another human/Carnasian brain I could compare it with, I'm completely in the dark."

The Saviours looked at each other as a dead silence descended upon them. There was another hybrid, but they had never been able to find him. For all they knew, Wolfram and Hart could have killed him by now.

Jienne snapped the laptop shut as she felt a tingle at the back of her mind. Someone had opened a communications link. She pressed her hands together then slowly brought them apart, creating a round screen about two feet in diameter. Closing her eyes, she opened herself up to the connection.

"Dr. Nykheb," the man on the other end said in greeting.

She smiled. "Dr. Gynell, thank you for replying so quickly. What did you make of the cerebral scans I sent you?"

"They're normal," he said. "Healthy, a little more used than a regular human's, which I suppose is from the Carnasian side. From this scan, the communications region of the brain was recently exhausted. That's probably the reason for the pain. Humans, even Carnasian hybrids like her, aren't evolved enough to handle that."

"But Serena doesn't have communication powers," Oz interrupted.

"Yeah," Maria added. "I've never seen her do that glowing ball thingie you guys do."

"We can't even communicate telepathically like the others do," Oz added.

"Hmm…" the doctor murmured as he looked at something off screen. "That's odd. This red portion is in the region of the human brain that isn't used, but it's in the communications region of the Carnasian brain. The red is a sign of overwork."

"How can she overwork something she doesn't use?" Alex asked.

They were interrupted by a loud groan from the bed. Oz rushed over to his girlfriend, holding her hand as she came to. 

"Danny?" she moaned, as her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm here," Oz said, kissing her forehead and smoothing back her hair.

"What…?"

"You passed out."

"What?"

"You started screaming about a pain in your head and collapsed," the doctor answered. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Serena shook her head as she ran through the events of the day. Suddenly she gasped and shot up. "Lindsey!"

Oz looked confused. "Your brother? What about him?"

"He was here…"

"He wasn't," Oz said slowly.

"He was, I could hear him. He was screaming, Danny. They were hurting him," she cried. "It hurt so much."

"Who was hurting him?"

"I-I don't know. I could just feel it…like someone sliced open my head and-and scrambled my brain in acid."

"And you communicate with this…Lindsey often?" Jienne asked.

"No, I mean, I used to be able to feel him when we were kids, but…"

"Feel him?" Dr. Gynell asked curiously. Serena's head snapped around as she finally noticed the glowing screen with the man on it in the middle of the room.

"Well, yeah, but it stopped after Kh…" she trailed off, not sure if it was a good idea to mention Khivar to these people.

The doctors turned to each other and nodded.

"The pain in your head was caused by a sudden surge of activity from the communications part of your brain. Since it was apparently dormant for most of your life, the sudden activity would have overworked it and thus caused you pain, and ultimately the loss of consciousness," Dr. Ghynell explained. "Like shorting out, in a way."

"No, no, it's not that," Serena insisted. "It was like I was feeling _his _pain."

"Maybe Wolfram and Hart finally caught up with him," Faith said knowingly. She had been on their payroll once before and she knew how ruthless they were. Lindsey was a brave, and/or incredibly stupid man for trying to cross them.

Jienne cleared her throat. "I'll, uh, leave you guys alone," she said, closing her communications ball and walking out.

Serena pushed herself up on the bed.

"Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" Oz asked, pushing her back on the bed. "You just collapsed. You need to rest."

"No, we have to go get Lindsey."

"Serena, it may already be too late," Oz said.

"Besides, we have no way of knowing where he is. He could be anywhere," Maria said. Serena sighed.

"You didn't feel it. It was like…ripping away at his…" she trailed off, searching for the right words. "…his very self. His spirit. And it hurt."

"Well, think Serena," Isabel said. "Can you remember anything? Maybe a feeling of where he was? Can you feel him now?"

Serena shook her head. "It just feels…empty now. Like…" Serena choked on a sob. "God, it's like he's not even there anymore." Oz held her close as she cried in his shirt. "Oh god, Danny, he's gone. I think my brother's dead."

************************* *********************

Like it? Hate it? Disgusted by my pathetic attempt at doctor talk? 


	4. Chapter Four

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Hey, all! Sorry for the wait. School just started back this week so I had to catch up on all the homework I ignored all summer. That, and I accidentally started writing another story and got distracted by it. But, anyway, here goes it. Hope you enjoy…I'll stop babbling now.

CHAPTER FOUR 

They sat at opposite ends of the long dinner table, the only sounds coming from the scraping of dinner utensils on porcelain plates and the babbling from a one-year old baby, who sat in a high chair beside a petite blonde woman near the middle of the expanse of table. 

Glancing between the two silent men, the woman picked up her baby and excused herself from the table, silently making her way out of the room.

The man on the left raised his glass to his lips but paused. "Our troops on Antar have been defeated by the rebels," he said nonchalantly before taking a sip of his wine. 

"So I've heard," said the man on the right, anger evident in his voice. 

"So, what are we going to do about it?" 

A slow, evil smirk stole across the man's face and his grey eyes shone wickedly. "Kill 'em all."

*************************** ************************

The Saviours roamed the palace freely, now that the threat had been physically removed from the planet. It had been nearly a week since Liz and Zan died. Six days, to be exact. It was five days since Faith, Ava, Kyle and Serena were rescued from the dungeons and Kaylanna was shot down on the field. Four and a half days since Isabel had met her birth mother. Three days since Siare was strong enough to go visit her sedated son, Max. And two days since Max was deemed sane enough to be allowed out of bed and into the waking world where a new, or perhaps old, mother awaited him along with the rest of his friends. One day since the people's efforts to rise up and take what was rightfully theirs finally came to a head and the last of Khivar's troops were eradicated from all the towns and cities and countries of Antar and his firm grip on the terrain was slapped away and sent back to its master with more than a few heaps of spit, scars and bitter loathing from the Antarian people. 

Today was the day the Royals took back what was rightfully theirs. 

Today was the day that they entered their marble stronghold, their re-pilfered fort, and laughed in spite at the evil warlord who dared take their kingdom and their home, and rubbed his proverbial face in their not-so-proverbial victory. 

Today was the day the Royal family went home.

For Siare, it was the place she'd been locked under for twelve long years. The place in which she could now, once again, roam free, with the memories of life before the war, before the name Khivar was ever uttered.

For Michael, Isabel and Max, it was the home they'd spent their entire lives searching for. The home that had called to them from the moment they crawled out of their pods and found their way into the arid deserts of Roswell, New Mexico.

For Rath and Ava, it was a trip back to a life they remembered and lived before. A life that they, on some level, longed to return to.

For their human friends, it was that shadowy spectre that loomed at the end of the line, whose tentacles stretched forth and curled around the life of their relationships like the grim reaper, waiting to suck the life out and leave them dry and dead.

The bright rays of the crimson sun shone upon them and glinted against the rich red walls of the Royal palace, and, bouncing off the cool marble, sent shimmering light either into their war-weathered eyes, or down into the blood soaked depths of the scorched earth. A light breeze blew, sending the scent of dirt and dried blood floating through the afternoon air.

Maria squeezed Michael's hand in reassurance as the front doors swung open. He'd been in here before, but that was for a rescue mission. They hadn't even passed through the front door the last time. Now, as she gazed around at the high ceilings and shiny floors, she gasped in awe. It was beautiful. It was hard to imagine that this building had just been in the middle of a war. It had come out virtually unscathed. She turned to watch Michael's face as he looked around. It was definitely a far cry from the ratty trailer he grew up in and the cheap apartment he'd rented when he was first emancipated. The fact that in a past life he grew up in a castle like this one would have thrown everyone in Roswell for a loop. It was just so unbelievable. 

"Welcome to the Royal Palace of Antar," Rath said dryly. "Royal bedrooms on the third floor, guest rooms on the first, food and lounges every floor in between."

Siare led them through the halls with practiced ease, stepping over some fallen furniture from the week before. In the rush to get outside for the last battle, the guards had knocked over and broken most of the tables, chairs and decorations that usually adorned the hallways. Finally, they came upon a large room. Scattered in various parts of the room, there were soft, overstuffed white couches and armchairs. In the centre, there was a short coffee table made out of the Antarian equivalent to wood, which was an odd rust colour. The floor was covered in a plush red carpet with a thick orange stripe down the middle, which led to a huge maroon fireplace at the far end of the room with intricate carvings covering every square inch. 

Above the hearth, hung a large painting. A man and a woman stood proudly in the middle of the canvas, dressed in their best. From the crowns upon their heads, you could tell they were the King and Queen. The King's crown was a thick, shiny golden band that sat perfectly on a head of medium length, dark brown hair. A series of rubies ran around the edges of the crown. In the centre, sat another larger round red diamond. On either side of the diamond, there were two smaller orange diamonds, representing Antar's red sun and the two orange moons that rose in the sky every night. The queen wore a daintier tiara with glistening diamonds on every square inch of its surface. In the middle, there were three diamonds in the same colour and formation as on the King's crown. To the right of the king stood a young girl of about sixteen. She was tall and slim, her chin held high. Everything in her stance spoke of her royal heritage. A smaller version of the Queen's tiara sat atop a head of long, curly blonde hair. She wore a simple gold necklace with a large ruby pendant laying lightly above her chest. It was identical to the one the Queen wore. On the Queen's left stood a young man. He seemed to be older than the girl and slightly reluctant to be in the picture. Instead of the regal frown his sister wore, he had a shy smile on his face. His dark hair was combed neatly back under his crown, which was a smaller version of the King's. He also wore a chain around his neck with a large ruby in the middle. Standing between them all was another boy, this one about twelve years old. He had his arms crossed over his chest, an irritated scowl contorting his young face. His brown hair stood out wildly on his head, surrounding his small crown in an unruly mass of locks. A silver chain with a large sapphire hung low on his chest.

Siare stared sadly at the painting. It was of the Royal family when they were at their peak. She could still remember the day it was painted. Her husband was still alive then. Zan hadn't ascended to the throne yet; he wouldn't for another eight years. She smiled as her eyes hit on Rath's scowling face. It didn't show on the painting, but she and her husband both had a firm grip on the back of Rath's shirt, keeping him in place. Rath hated having portraits done even more than he hated going to lessons. The joy he had because they'd cancelled his lessons that day was overshadowed by the fact that he had to sit still for a family portrait instead. Nothing they could do could make him smile. It was a wonder they even managed to hold him in place for so long. For Zan, it was a struggle to keep him from blushing and sweating under the attention. Vilandra enjoyed every minute of it. In fact, the only trouble with her was convincing her that yes, her hair was fine, the dress was lovely and she looked beautiful and no, she wouldn't look completely rancid in the picture. 

A tear slipped down Siare's cheek as she remembered the days when her family was complete. The days before that horrible war.

"Aw! Michael, you were such a cutie!" Maria exclaimed as she studied the painting. "Look at that face." She pinched his cheek teasingly and pouted. Michael groaned and pulled away from her, rubbing his cheek and scowling. 

On the other side of the room, a wooden grid was attached to the wall. Every other box held a picture of different flowers in the Royal garden. Rath walked over to one of the boxes in the grid and pressed his hand to it. A green laser ran over his hand, scanning the DNA and fingerprints. After the scan, it beeped and a part of the wall dissolved revealing a large white elevator. There was a thick layer of dust covering the floor of the compartment and it was dark. It looked like nobody had used it in years.

Faith, Michael, Maria, Isabel, Alex, Kyle, Ava, Max, Serena, Oz and Siare followed Rath into the elevator. When the last person squeezed in, Siare gave the vocal command to take them to the third floor. The elevator lurched a little before beginning its steady climb up to the third floor of the palace.

****************************** ******************************

The dull thud of his boots on the stone stairs resonated in the dark corridor as he made his way to the lonely basement room, his heavy, navy blue cloak floating behind him. He brushed his long brown hair out of his cold, grey eyes as he pushed the heavy door open.

The room was chilly, frosty even. The nine or ten men that milled around were bundled up from head to foot with a heavy wool-like material. Their breaths puffed out in a white fog as they worked, connecting wires and welding metal. In another corner of the room, a few scientists worked with a vast array of test tubes and multi coloured chemicals.

One of the men walked over to stand beside him, dispassionately staring at the flurry of activity in the room.

"Progress?" he asked.

"The first half of The Project has been prepared. The second half will be ready be this afternoon," the man answered, running a hand through his hair.

"Excellent."

**************************** ****************************

"And this was my room," Rath said as he pushed open the tall wooden door. The room smelt musty. Dust floated up in the air, having been disturbed for the first time in twelve years, since the day before its owner died.

The floor was littered with clothes, papers and a three-inch layer of dirt and grime. It looked completely ransacked. A dresser was tilted on its side, some of the drawers scattered around the room broken into shards of wood. The bed sheets were pulled halfway off the mattress, which was on the opposite side of the room from the bed frame. There were shards of glass on the floor where a lamp had been smashed and a computer had been pulled apart and tossed across the room.

Michael pushed past him into the room and let out a low whistle as he surveyed the damage.

"Housekeeping really isn't one of your strong points, is it?" Maria asked, wrinkling her nose as she spotted some kind of…fungal growth somewhere near the bed frame. 

"What the hell died in here?" Faith commented, sniffing the air in distaste. "What, did the battle extend up here, too?"

Rath blushed as he pushed his dresser up on its feet. "Uh…no…I was just…upset," he answered, remembering the night he returned home and trashed his room. It was the night Zan was killed, when he returned from visiting Cortenia. A blind rage had just taken him over and he took it out on his poor defenceless room, then after, he collapsed against the side of the mattress and just…cried. He sobbed the night away before falling into a fitful sleep.

"Uh huh," Faith said, poking the big pile of fungus with her foot. "I think this is alive. Where's my stake?"

"What the hell is that?" Michael asked, crouching over it.

"Sandwich?" Rath guessed with a shrug. "A puppy?"

Maria snorted and started snooping around the remains of the dresser. She let out a giggle as she pulled out a silk shirt. She held it up to Rath.

"Something you want to tell us?" she snickered, holding up the shiny white shirt with ruffles around the collar and cuffs. "I didn't know you had a Shakespeare fetish."

Rath snatched it and tossed it across the room. "Not my idea. Mom was _really_ pushy."

Michael turned up his nose at the shirt. "You, Rathikins, are a shame and embarrassment."

Rath sneered at him, just one step away from sticking out his tongue, really. "I'm sure you had some foofy, frilly outfits too, baby bro." He pointed a long finger at him. "The minute we step foot on Carnath, I'm lookin'. Dirt, baby." 

Maria snorted and rolled her eyes at them, shaking her head. Kids. Just then, her hand hit on something hard at the bottom of the drawer. She felt around a bit before finally closing her hand around the object and fishing it out from amongst the tangled mess of clothes. It was a thick platinum necklace with a large, round sapphire pendant. She rubbed the pendant against her sleeve, shining it. 

"What's that?" Michael asked, walking up behind her. Rath looked up at what they were doing.

"That's mine. All the Royals have one. It's for, you know, status." He walked over to them and took the jewel. He always hated that thing. He pointed at the centre of it. "If you look inside the sapphire, there's a hologram of the system imprinted on it."

Looking closer at it, Maria could see the tiny replica of the five-star formation. The tiny stars were almost glowing. Michael frowned at it.

"I know this," he murmured, snatching it and twisting it in his hands.

"Hey!"

He flipped it over and fingered the engravings on the back. They seemed familiar to him. He showed it to Rath.

"What does this mean?"

He shook his head. "Don't know. It's ancient. Probably ancient Antarian. I never could figure out that language."

"I know this," he repeated.

"Well…yeah, it is ours…"

"No, I wouldn't remember this, I'm Deimon remember? I've _seen_ this before."

Just then, there was a loud boom followed by a slight tremor. Anyone who was outside would have seen a bright flash of light in the sky and a ripple through Antar's upper atmosphere…

*************************** ***************************

_Ten minutes earlier…_

Khivar leaned back in his soft leather chair, his fingers bridged in front of his face. Suddenly, the door burst open and a man rushed in.

"It's ready," he said with a grin, handing him a file. Khivar quickly skimmed over the data before tossing the papers on his desk. "Just say the word."

"Launch," Khivar said, a wicked smirk splitting his face.

Lindsey's grin widened, his grey eyes twinkling. "You got it, Dad."

********************* **********************

You know the drill. Tell me if ya like it or hate it or are sickened by its very existence. *puts on fake gypsy accent* The review button is calling you.


	5. Chapter Five

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Thank you so much for the reviews, Elle and Jazzypunker! I really appreciate it.Here's the new part. [Insert witty comment here] I'm too tired to babble now. Who was the bastard that reminded my teachers that they were supposed to give me homework?! *****Screams, pulls out hair, then collapses* Onward through the pages…

CHAPTER FIVE 

Khivar leaned back in his chair, an evil smirk plastered upon his face as he read over the reports from Antar. His plan was well underway and it was definitely working. 

His smirk slowly stretched into a grin as he looked over the pictures. People lay in the streets, their eyes a blank white colour, a thin sheen of sweat covering their bodies. He almost could imagine them shuddering violently as the fatal seizures wracked their bones and the life slowly and painfully seeped out of them. If only he could be there to watch it in person. 

"Dad," Lindsey said as he walked into the office. He unceremoniously flopped into the chair on the other side of Khivar's desk. "I was thinking. What could make this…file better?" he said, flicking at the folder in disdain. "Then it hit me. A movie!" He leaned over, swinging his chair around to face the door. "Boys!" 

Two guards walked in pushing a cart with a sleek black box on it. They glanced at their leaders somewhat questioningly, wondering what it was. It looked like an overgrown version of a primitive computer screen. It wasn't like anything on Carnath.

Lindsey raised an eyebrow at them when they didn't leave. "You can go now," he said condescendingly, his piercing grey eyes boring into them as he waved his hand at them dismissively.

"Y-yes, my prince. I'm sorry, sir," one of them said as they both bowed and scurried out of the room.

Lindsey rolled his eyes at them before turning back to his father. He smirked, pulling out a videotape and waving it in front of him.

"Had this brought in from Earth. Ready to see some action?"  He pushed it into the VCR and flipped on the battery operated TV, since Carnath didn't have the same electrical sources as Earth. 

The image of a dusty street appeared on the screen. People were walking slowly down the street, their feet dragging as they forced themselves to move in the unbearable heat. The camera panned to the left and caught the image of a man collapsing in the middle of the road, his body shaking in the throes of a fit. People were screaming, the new situation forcing them into action as they scrambled to get him to a hospital. "I was thinking of calling it 'Antar's Demise: The Fall of Zan.'"

Khivar chuckled. He stood up from his chair and walked over to Lindsey's side, clapping him on the back. His eyes glinted with mirth as he watched the screen. Yes, this was perfect.

"Prepare phase two."

*************************** ***************************

"What should we do?"

Max Evans stared blankly out of the window, not really seeing what was going on out there, and certainly not listening to the discussion in the room. His heart just wasn't in it anymore. Not since Liz died. He just didn't care anymore. He sighed, pulling the curtain, then silently left the room.

"Sire?" a scientist asked, puzzled. The only reply he got was the slamming of the door. The man's face contorted in confusion.  He just couldn't believe that their king just walked out on a meeting that could decide the fate of their entire race. And he didn't have an inkling of what to do now. Did the meeting continue? Or did they wait for him to return? He turned inquiring eyes to the King's second-in-commands.

Michael watched sadly as Max left the room, then turned back to the questioning faces and scratched his eyebrow.

"Uh…he thinks better alone," he lied, sharing a look with his brother. Rath nodded in agreement. They couldn't allow the people to lose faith in Max. They needed a leader they could trust. And Max was just that, their leader. Until he decided to wake up, stop moping and accept it, the rest of the Saviours would just have to cover for him.

"Uh…can you repeat that in English?" Ava asked, referring to the previous discussion. She turned to Serena, the only Saviour left that had any kind of scientific mind. They had just spent the past three hours in a meeting with Antar's top scientists and doctors, each one explaining their findings to the Saviours. Explanations that were completely over their heads. No matter how hard the scientists tried to dumb it down, there was no way that eight twenty-year-olds with barely a high school education from a planet far less advanced could ever understand. It was virtually impossible. It was just a known fact that intellectual types cannot make anything simple.

"Okay, you know about the ozone layer on Earth?" Serena asked. They all nodded and shrugged. "It protects the Earth from the radiation from the sun, only letting some of it in. Well, Antar has the same thing, only it's a bit thicker and lets even less of the radiation in. That's why it's so cold here. There's a cooler sun and a thicker ozone layer." She paused to make sure they understood. "Whatever happened yesterday, it caused a ripple through Antar's upper atmosphere. They think that a chemical was released that breaks down the ozone layer, making it thinner, which in turn lets in more radiation and therefore, makes it hotter. Antarians aren't built for that kind of heat."

"It's not that hot, though, not even close to how it can get on Earth," Kyle said.

"You're human, Kyle, so it wouldn't bother you, but the extra heat throws off the balance in Antarian bodies."

"Like what happened to Michael when he went into the sweat," Maria stated.

"Yes!" Serena said. Her grandfather had told her the effects the steam tent had on 'visitors'. "Water has to be at least 100 degrees Celsius to boil and become steam. 60 degrees is the maximum on Antar. Whatever Antarian DNA Michael has in his body couldn't cope with it. That's why he got sick." She pushed her hair back from her face and leaned forward on the desk. "Michael is half human, half Carnasian and…well, I'm not even sure he has any Antarian in him…"

"He does," Siare interrupted. "We weren't sure if he would gain the same powers as the others with just his original Carnasian DNA, so we added some Antarian."

"Right, so that makes him, what, quarter Antarian? And that's the reaction he had. Imagine a full Antarian. That's the same reaction four times as fast. Four times as many things that can go wrong in their bodies."

"So you're telling me that everyone on this planet is going to die and we don't know why?" Isabel asked.

"Actually," said one of the other scientists. She was a small redhead with dark eyes and a mean looking scowl. "Our satellites picked up a surge in the upper atmosphere and we got pictures of a series of bombs. They were all aimed at different parts of Antar at equal intervals."

"Who's bombing us? Wait, don't answer that," Kyle said. "Khivar."

"Yes. It's got special elements which are required for breaking down the stratosphere, so we could easily trace it back." She pulled out a computer and typed in a few codes, bringing up a holographic screen full of charts. "Through the readings the satellites managed to pick up, it seems that the bomb was heat activated." She hit a key and a simulation appeared on the screen, moving in slow motion. There was a red sector of a circle on the left corner with a blue missile heading towards it. When the blue missile hit the red circle, it changed colour, slowly turning orange, to show that it was heating up. A millisecond after it began heating up, the missile exploded, sending a clear ripple through the circle. "You see, the friction that was caused when it entered the upper atmosphere caused it to heat up and explode, releasing the chemicals within."

"And this is what changed the atmosphere?" Michael asked slowly, trying to understand. He knew he should have paid more attention in Chemistry.

"Precisely, my lord," she said, nodding.

"Chemical warfare," Rath said, shaking his head.

"So how do we fix it?" Alex asked.

Just then, there was a loud crash and boom. The ground shook violently as a large bomb exploded in the capital city, and every other city, of Antar. A large, grey cloud of smoke rose from within it, the chemical particles diffusing within the clean air of Antar, tainting it. Mingling with precious oxygen to cause a planet-wide spread of instant pollution. The further it spread, the clearer it became until it was undistinguishable from the air around them.

The Saviours ran to the window, shoving aside the thick drapery to peer outside. 

In the streets, people fell to their knees, grabbing their throats, choking on the thickened air, their eyes bulging as their skin turned a sick shade of bright pink. Others sprinted for the surrounding buildings, pounding frantically on doors, screaming to be let in, while the people within their houses locked their doors and windows, drawing the curtains and huddling in corners, taking as shallow a breath as possible. It may not have been announced, but they could tell. The air was changing, shifting from the clear, pure oxygen that usually floated about in Antar's atmosphere to something else. Something more sinister. It was changed to…

************************* ************************

…Carbon Dioxide. Lethal to Antarians in large doses. Khivar kicked his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head as he watched the holographic feed from the spy satellites he had aimed on Antar. It wasn't the same authentic experience of watching it on an Earth television, but it was entertaining nonetheless. Later he'd ask Lindsey if he had the scene on Earth video. They could watch it together; maybe eat popcorn (he'd seen them do it on Earth and wanted to try it). He grinned maniacally as he watched a particularly big man fall flat on his face after having a coughing fit, then erupting into violent tremors as a seizure wracked his body. 

Yes.

Revenge was sweet.

********************** **********************

The red headed scientist coughed violently as she pulled out an atmospheric scanner from her pocket. "Carbon Dioxide ratios are off the charts!" she sputtered between coughs.

"Close the outer air vents!" Rath commanded into his comm. link. "I only want the air that was in here before the explosion circulating in here!"

Every full Antarian in the room was wheezing, slumped over in their chairs or even on the floor. The only upright people in the place were the Saviours, who were accustomed to the carbon dioxide found in Earth's atmosphere. Rath rushed over to Siare who was collapsed on the floor taking weak, shallow breaths. He pulled her head into his lap and held her hand. Isabel held her other hand, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. The others gathered around while Michael just remained standing by the window, body rigid, seemingly entranced by what was happening outside.

"You're gonna be okay. We'll fix this," Isabel was whispering to her over and over, silent tears streamed down her cheeks. "God, you can't die now. I just found you."

"The portal! We can use it to move them. Get them off the planet!" Ava exclaimed.

"We can't move an entire planet," Alex said. "And where would we take them? Earth? They'd die instantly."

Siare was gasping for breath as she looked at her children, finally her eyes landed on Rath. 

"Gr-granolith," she rasped. "Get…Granolith."

"The Granolith? Do what with the Granolith?" Rath asked, confused.

"Power…help…restore…" she said. Suddenly, she erupted into a fit of coughs. "You-you have to get the granolith." She forced it out insistently. "The power. It can fix it…restore Antar."

"The Granolith?" Isabel asked. "We need the keeper! Somebody go get Max!"

"No." Siare rasped. "Blue…bl-blue stones…"

"She's delirious. We have to get her out of here."

Suddenly, there was a gust of light wind through the room. Everyone looked up towards the window, worried that more air was coming in from outside, but the window was closed. 

And Michael stood there, staring blankly into nothing, his eyes glowing red as he held his arms out in front of him. The room door slammed open and the air began to swirl faster as the Carbon Dioxide from everywhere in the base rose up and collected into a dark cloud above the room. The cloud then floated towards Michael in a big ball. In one swift movement, he used his power to throw open the window and toss out the offending chemical. Then, just as quickly, he slammed the window shut again before any more carbon dioxide could enter the room. He closed his eyes then, took a deep breath and fainted.

"Michael!" Maria cried as she ran to catch him before he hit the ground. Silently, she thanked her slayer strength and speed, as she was able to slowly lower him to the ground. She held his head in her lap and stroked his hair.

All around the base, people were getting up off the floor, finally able to breath properly now that the bulk of the poisonous gas was filtered out, but the people outside…it was doubtful that many survived. A few of the braver doctors, nurses and soldiers made their way to storage rooms to get gas masks and oxygen tanks so that they could go outside and save others, maybe bring any survivors into the safety of the base. Others, who were more cynical and less brave, decided that this was only a temporary fix and that they would do just as well retiring to their rooms so that they could die in the comfort of their own beds.

Meanwhile, back in the meeting room, Rath twisted, his eyes shifting back and forth between his brother and his mother, torn between tending to his past and tending to his present. Faith shared a look with him, knowing what he was thinking and went over to Michael's side, crouching beside Maria. There, Rath would have a connection to his brother through her.

Siare was slowly gaining her strength back, the poisons being forced back out of her body by clean oxygen. Despite Isabel's protests, she forced herself up to her knees, crawling over to Michael, her other son. No, not really hers. Not anymore. Not ever, really. And certainly not after today. 

Oz sat crouched on a chair near the window, his face a mask of stoicism, green eyes peering outside at people in military gas masks checking the bodies that lay still out in the streets. He knew it was futile. His werewolf status had heightened his senses past that of a regular human or Lythian. They were heightened to that of a wolf. Honed to the blood of the prey. And he could tell that searching was futile. There was no one alive out there. Not in the streets. There was no blood pumping, no heat. The meat was cold. Poisoned and freshly dead. Good only for a feeding, not a hunt. This day marked a gross reduction of Antarian population. 

He shook his head, returning his attentions to the room. He sniffed the air, frowning. Yes, that was what he smelt. Fear. A lot of fear. Most of it radiating off of the scientists. His wolf side basked in the glow of it, but his human side worried about what it could mean. He had a good idea why they were scared. Michael. They'd never seen powers like that on Antar, nor the rest of the Lythian system. Not unless they were introduced to the Earth's atmosphere. And the fear of the unknown was always the greatest fear of all. 

Oz looked up as Rath left his vigil of his family to join him at the window to survey the kingdom grimly. His face was set in stone, but his eyes were stormy. Oz could sense anger, despair and a little bit of deadly intent radiating off him in waves as he stood there silently. Thinking. Watching. 

"Mom, what were you talking about with the Granolith," he asked finally. 

Siare looked away from Michael to look up at Rath, worry evident in her eyes. "Nobody truly knows what the Granolith does or-or what exactly it is. It is a knowledge that is passed down from keeper to keeper, never to be revealed to the outside. But there are stories, legends about the Granolith. It is said that it was the creator of the Lythian system, that's where the name comes from. The Granolith is the ancestor of the Lythian system. It made the planets, the atmosphere, the people…everything."

"And you think that if we could activate the Granolith, we could restore the stratosphere?" Serena asked. "That's a bit far fetched."

"But we should try it though, right?" Isabel said. "It's worth a try. It's not like we have any other options."

"And how are we supposed to get it? I'm sure Khivar's not gonna be up for lending it to us," Kyle pointed out. 

"The keeper should be able to summon it," Siare answered. "I mean, it is in their complete control."

"But you have no proof that it would work?" Alex asked.

"No. Nobody really knows how the Granolith works or how to make it work. All we've ever been able to do is access its energy as a source of power," she explained. "That's one of the reasons it was left with you. It had the power to propel you through space so you could quickly return to us once you were ready to come home."

"So its not a ship?" Isabel asked.

"No. Not in the slightest. It's an energy source, the very thing that keeps our planets alive. But it can't think. Not much, anyway.  That's where the keeper comes in. It selects one person that it deems worthy of the power and responsibility of keeping the planets and their peoples within the best of health, while keeping its actions secret. Beyond that, it can't do anything on its own."

"You know a lot about something that nobody knows about," Faith said suspiciously.

"A few thousand years ago, there was a keeper with a slightly loose tongue. He gave up some of the information on the Granolith in his time. Rumour has it that the Granolith recognised him as a traitor for leaking information and released him of his duties, taking its secrets with it."

"So Max is the key to fixing this?" Isabel asked. "The keeper?"

Siare shook her head; eyes steady on Rath's back as he looked out the window. He turned around as if feeling her eyes on him.

"No. He could never make it work. Zan was never the keeper of the Granolith," she said, looking directly into Rath's eyes, attempting to relay her thoughts to him silently. His eyes widened as he remembered.

"Blue stones," he said in realisation. Faith could read the answer in his head.

"Zan was never the keeper. Rath was," Faith said aloud.

"Not Rath," Rath said, turning his head to look at his brother, who had just begun to stir in Maria's arms. "Deimon." Siare nodded silently, casting her eyes away from his hurt gaze. "You knew."

**************************** **************************

Well, what do you think? Sorry, it's kinda short. I think all my parts are gonna be a bit shorter than usual from now on. That, or I can take longer to update. Teachers, huh? They make you think their classes are easy the first year so you don't drop 'em the second year, then BAM! Homework! Bastards! *walks off muttering under breath* 

Don't forget to feedback.


	6. Chapter Six

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Sorry about this chapter. It's a little lame…okay, it's really lame, but I couldn't make it any better, so…on with the story…

**CHAPTER SIX**

"You knew who I was all along and you didn't tell me," Rath said, hurt and anger radiating off him in waves. 

Siare shook her head, standing up in front of him. "Rath, sweetie," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook her hand off him like it burned. "Rath, please understand…"

"No." He shook his head. "Naw, it's fine. We can't deal with this now," he said looking out the window, at the floor, to his girlfriend, anywhere but Siare's face. "We have to…" He ran a hand roughly through his hair and turned, walking towards the door. He paused next to Maria. "Wake him up. Fill him in. We're gonna need him to get the Granolith. To save Antar." Maria nodded, looking at him sympathetically. "I uh, I have to, um…go. Call me when baby bro gets his lazy ass up, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer as he slipped out the door.

Rath slammed the door behind him, leaning his forehead against the warm wood and closing his eyes with a sigh. He had to be stronger. He couldn't break down, or storm off, or even run away like he wanted to. His planet needed him. Antar needed him.

No. Antar needed Michael. He was probably just extra fodder. 

He chuckled ruefully under his breath as he braced his hands at either side of his head. This shouldn't have been news to him. He'd always known he was an outsider to the Royal family. He knew they were hiding something from him. He should have known it was himself.

No. He wouldn't let this get to him.

"General?" a voice asked from behind him. 

Straightening up, he took a deep breath, forcing stray emotions down, down into the depths of his mind to let his subconscious deal with it when he finally slept. Running a hand through his messy hair, he turned to find Major Haess standing behind him.

"Major," Rath greeted, nodding at the man.

"Are you okay, sir?" he asked, concerned.

"Fine." Rath looked him up and down, taking in his ruffled appearance. The man had been unkempt of late, but this was worse than usual. Major Haess was the one who brought Kaylanna in from the battlefield where she was shot down. Since then, he'd kept a constant vigil at her bedside, refusing to move until she awoke from her long sleep. It had been five days and she had yet to awaken. "You alright, Haess? You look like crap."

"I-It's Lady Kaylanna, sir. I came to tell you." The major paused, looking to the ground and shuffling his feet. "She…she's dead, sir."

Rath closed his eyes, shaking his head. "How long?"

"Five minutes. She woke up for just a second, then…" he trailed off, blinking rapidly. "Lady Cortenia asked me to come get you." Rath nodded, then slowly began to make his way to the medical bay, where another of his family lay. Dead.

************************** ************************

Siare sank to the floor as Rath slammed the door shut, tears streaming down her face. Rath was never going to forgive her for that. She looked towards Faith, who was sitting across from her, glaring at her slightly.

"Aren't you going to go after him?" Siare asked.

Faith closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then opened them again with a sigh, shaking her head. "He needs to be alone for a little while," she said, coldly. "He needs me, I'm there." She tapped her temple with her index finger. She narrowed her eyes, pointing that same finger at her. "You are…" she shook her head barely containing her anger. "I don't even have time to waste on you."

"I just…"

"No. I don't wanna hear it. Rath had a right to know who his real parents were even if you didn't know why they gave him up or if they wanted him back. You should have told him," Faith said in a low voice, the level never rising. Siare dropped her gaze away from the girl, the deathly glare of her brown eyes too much to take.

Just then, there was a groan from the ground where Michael lay. 

"What the hell happened?" he muttered, bringing his hand up to rest on his aching head as he slowly opened his eyes. He felt completely drained, like he'd just run fifty miles with a killer whale strapped to his back in a sea of lead. In the distance, he could always feel Maria pulling at their connection, trying to reel him back into the land of the conscious, but the resistance was heavy, pulling him back into the murky sea of sleep. 

"You fainted. Probably overdid it with the powers," Maria explained after she finished kissing him everywhere she could get to...in decent company, anyway. "Or…Deimon did, anyway."

Michael just nodded. Assuming she was right. The last thing he remembered was an explosion. He remembered watching as the dark smoke spread, and every Antarian that roamed outside collapsed to their knees, choking, dying. He remembered the hot anger that spread through him as he watched the people fall. The surge of energy under his skin that finally culminated in his palms, the invisible tentacles of his powers reaching out and collecting all the bad gases in the base and hurling it out the window. After that it was blank. That was probably when he blacked out, he figured.

Michael sat up slowly, with some help form Maria. Looking around the room, he took a mental count of the people in the room, noticing that his brother was missing. Then, his eyes landed on Siare's form sitting on the ground, her head in her hands as she cried. Isabel was knelt next to her, patting her back.

'What's going on?' Michael asked Maria telepathically as he surveyed the scene.

Maria paused, not sure if giving up this information to him was such a good idea at this point. 'Siare told us that the Granolith can help us save Antar.'

"How?" Michael asked aloud. Talking in his head was fine, once he didn't have a splitting headache, but now it just made his head throb more. 

"Siare told us that the Granolith basically created the planets. And she thinks that if the keeper summons it, we could use it to fix the atmosphere," she explained.

Michael eyed her suspiciously. "What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything. What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Maria, I'm in your head. I can feel you, remember?" He frowned. "Where's Rath?"  
  


Maria sighed. "Siare revealed who the keeper of the Granolith is."

"Yeah, it's Max. We figured that out already."  
  


"No. It's not Max. It's you."

****************************** **************************

Lindsey's smile faltered as an unexpected emotion ran through him, shaking him through to the bones. He had just been watching the video of the second phase of The Plan with his father. He had been enjoying it up until now. 

What was that he felt?

It was… was it …guilt? No, it couldn't be. The Royal Four were getting what they deserved. A gruesome end to their shoddy reign.

As suddenly as it appeared, that feeling vanished, once more allowing him to enjoy his work. Khivar chuckled one more time as he flicked the TV off and turned to his son. Lindsey grinned at him as he got up from his seat.

"Go get ready. We have phase three to get through," Khivar said in dismissal. Lindsey nodded and left the office, making his way slowly back to his room.

Phase three. Destroy the stragglers. 

Kill the Royals.

Lindsey smiled to himself as he pulled on his dark blue cloak, pausing to fish his sapphire pendant out from under his clothes. As he smoothed the hair out of his eyes, he caught a glimpse at himself in the mirror.

Frowning, he stepped closer and studied his reflection, cocking his head to the side as he tried to figure out what was wrong with the image. He wasn't a very tall man, just slightly muscular with a broad chest. His hands were mismatched slightly and he had a scar around his left wrist. His brown hair was longer now and hung into his grey eyes…

His eyes! That's what was wrong.

But for the life of him, he could figure out why. 

Of their own accord, his hands reached deep into his pockets, somehow knowing exactly where to find them. Just then, there was a knock on his door. Yelling his permission for entrance, he watched as the door opened a crack and a servant walked in. 

"His majesty wishes to see you," she said with a bow.

Lindsey waved her off and dusted off his shirt, raking his hands through his hair one last time. As he made the trek back to Khivar's office, he caught his reflection in one of the hallway mirrors. Stopping, he smiled as he studied his blue eyes.

Yes. That was better. That was how it was meant to be.

**************************** *************************

The medical bay was unusually crowded and loud, the extra people brought in from outside taking up all the room as they took in the clean oxygen in the palace. As soon as he stepped inside, there was a hush and the people parted, clearing a pathway for the stormy royal. 

Rath's face was set in stone as he walked towards the bed at the far end of the room. His eyes were locked on the blonde that sat hunched over the bed, her shoulders shaking.

"Cort?" he whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She spun around and launched herself into his arms, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close and whispering soothing words into her ear until her sobs subsided.

"Rath! What'll I do? She wasn't s'pposed ta die, not yet," she rambled. Her accent was getting thicker and thicker in her grief and it was pretty much impossible to understand what she was saying. 

Finally she pushed away from Rath and stormed out of the room. Rath could do nothing but follow her. She made her way over to Kaylanna's room, pulling out one of her army outfits. 

"Cort, what are you doing?"

"OI'll kill'im is what OI'll du. Me sister's dead at 'is 'and and OI'll not let 'im live."

"Cor…"

"Op'n a pahrtal ta Carnath and we'll see if that bastard lives anotha day."

"Cor, stop," Rath said sternly. She froze and turned to him. "I can't let you go to Carnath."

"Bu-"

"You have no training, no field experience. Cort, you work in the lab making defence systems, Khivar'll kill you in a heartbeat," Rath reasoned. "We'll get him for you, okay? 'Anna wouldn't want you dying in the process."

Cortenia sighed heavily and flopped down on the bed with her head in her hands. "You want me to stay here and make more alarms for the base?"

"No," Rath sighed. "Look, Khivar's last attack left the atmosphere poisoned. Everyone will die." Cortenia gasped and her eyes widened. "So far the base is the only safe place for full Antarians. Michael cleaned the air here."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah, well, there are still people out there that need help, Cortenia, some people who managed to survive until now, but we need people to go get them. I hate to ask you this now, but you're one of the few people who can actually survive out there."

"But surely housing a few people in the base wouldn't help much. What happens when the air runs out?"

"We have a possible fix for that, but we need to go to Carnath to get it."

***************************** ***************************

Michael stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed, taking long deep breaths. It was a meditating technique that was supposed to help him focus his powers, well, Deimon's powers, so he could summon the Granolith, but so far all it did was make him want to sleep.

"I don't think it's working," he heard Kyle say from his right.

"Obviously," he said, opening his eyes. He turned to Faith and raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure this works?"

"It's what Giles always told me and B to do," she answered with a shrug.

"Did it actually work?" Maria asked.

"Actually it used to make me kinda sleepy, but it might work for you," she said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Maybe you need to be near the Granolith for it to work," Isabel suggested.

"Sure, why don't we just walk up to Khivar and say, 'We know you're having fun with the whole annihilating an entire species thing, but could we please borrow the Granolith to fix it?' Yeah, I really don't think that's gonna work," Maria said sarcastically.

"Then we just have to take it from him," Rath said as he walked into the room with Cortenia in tow. Faith walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. 

'You okay?' she asked silently.

'Yeah. I'm cool,' he answered. She looked unconvinced, but let it slide. 

"Grams?" Maria asked. "What's wrong?"

"Kaylanna passed away just now," she said sadly. 

There was an extended silence in the room as they took that in. Another one of their own was gone. They were just being bumped off one by one. Each person couldn't help but wonder who would be next.

Just then, someone knocked on the door and opened it, breaking the silence. It was a soldier carrying a pile of equipment in his arms. Cortenia calmly took it from him and nodded at him in silent dismissal. The soldier saluted to the room, then turned on his heel and left. Cortenia carried the supplies to the table and started sorting through, strapping on different things.

"What are you doing?" Maria asked.

"I'm going out," she answered. "Someone has to go out and rescue the survivors."

Maria walked over to her grandmother, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure? I mean, you just lost your sister."

Cortenia turned to her. "There was nothing Kaylanna wanted more than to help keep Antar safe. She wouldn't want me to sit around and mope while her people suffered," she said with a reassuring smile. "It's what she would have done herself if she could. I'll do it for her." With that, she shoved the last of the gas and oxygen masks that the soldier had brought in, into a large bag. She strapped it on her back and hugged Maria to her.

"I'll see you when you get back," she said, kissing her forehead. Looking to Michael, she said, "Take care of my Granddaughter," before walking out the door. 

Maria frowned. "When I get back? Where are we going?"

"Carnath," Rath replied.


	7. Chapter Seven

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Please don't kill me. *hides behind Spike* Sorry I took so long. I had a ridiculous amount of writer's block and I still hate hate hate this chapter even after I re-wrote it, like five times. My computer apparently hates it too since it keeps eating it. *rolls eyes* Anyway, enjoy!

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

He made his way silently down the deserted hallway. It wouldn't do to have them realise that the palace had been invaded. Everything rested on this mission and he was not about to screw up. They had made all the necessary preparations within a short fifteen minutes, and now they were infiltrating enemy territory to free the people of the Lythian system from the fearful state of Khivar's tyrannical rule. He had gone too far this time, and now, it was time to remove him from the equation. Permanently.

He paused at a junction in the corridors and sniffed the air, searching for that familiar vile stench that made him regret his heightened senses. He steered his two partners to the left and continued the journey to the enemy. Khivar. He came to a stop at a tall blue marble door. There were intricate carvings curving across the stone, the edges of the designs glinting in the light and giving a light blue sheen to the near-black surface. Silently, he nodded at the team leader, confirming that the target was inside. The leader closed his eyes, sending a silent message to his mate in the other group.

It was time…

****************************** ******************************

Michael sighed and leaned against a large heavy desk, anxiously watching the clock. It had been exactly thirty seconds since Maria had stepped through the portal with Rath and Oz and already he was regretting this plan. Of course, it was a good plan, but he'd like it better if somebody else was doing it. He looked across to Faith, who was staring blankly ahead, in mental contact with Rath. Suddenly, she blinked and shook her head.

"They found him," Faith announced as she closed her mental link with Rath.

"Good. Bastard's prob'bly plannin' some way to kill off everybody else on this planet," Ava said bitterly as she walked into the room. "Hope he burns when ya kill 'im."

"Ave, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be finding survivors with Cortenia," Isabel said.

"That's assumin' there's any survivors in the first place," Ava muttered angrily. "We ain't seen nobody breathin' since we went out. Cort's gonna take out a ship and check for survivors on this side." She turned to Serena, who had just loaded another gun and was now searching her clothes for a place to put it. "I need a spell to the other side of Antar."

Serena nodded, plugging some coordinates into the translation program that she and Alex had developed, so that they could create the wormhole spells quickly and efficiently, since they never did find the books of Wolf, Ram or Hart. 

"It's gonna be hard to check an entire planet for survivors by hand, isn't it?" Serena asked sadly as she worked out the spell. "Seems impossible." 

"We have to try. I can't just let everybody die like that," Ava said, determination strong in her voice. "I haf'ta help somehow. Ya know what I mean?"

Serena nodded in understanding as she printed out the spell and handed it to Ava, who took it, silently trying to get her mouth around the vowel-less words, before stuffing it in her breast pocket. She knew exactly what she meant. A few people in a planet of a few billion didn't seem like much, but just a few people in a planet with none was a lot. Just saving the few would be enough to make a difference because it wasn't likely that it could be any other way. Besides, what good would this mission do if there was no one left? What point was there in fixing the atmosphere with the Granolith if there was nobody to breathe the air? 

"Great. I have to go get a team together." Ava moved towards the door, but paused with her hand on the knob. Turning to them, she said, "Good luck, guys. I'll see you when we get back." With that, she left, closing the door quietly behind her.

****************************** ******************************

Maria watched Rath's fingers as he silently counted down. 3…2…1…

She did a tight spin in her spot, landing a perfect spin-kick in the centre of the door. There was a loud crack as the hinges snapped and the heavy door slammed to the ground. Not wasting a second, Rath, Maria and Oz stormed into the room, guns cocked and ready. 

The room was like the rest of the palace, immaculate and neat. The blue marble walls were polished to perfection, so shiny that you could see your reflection with ease. The floor was covered in a thick blue carpet with royal purple patterns woven into the fibres. There were a few pictures hanging on the walls, showing the harsh violence of the battlefield. Navy blue drapes hung over a large window, letting only a little of the sun's blue light into the room. Shelves were stacked neatly on either side of the room, with a heavy wooden table full of papers standing in front of each shelf. In the centre of the room, there was a large wooden desk with a leather chair on either side. The chairs were occupied by two men.

Khivar looked up at them, calmly leaning back in his seat and taking in the damage to the door.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Get up!" Rath growled, keeping his gun trained on Khivar's head. His index finger was itching, and would love nothing more than to pull the trigger, but he couldn't just yet. Not until they found out what else he was planning to do to Antar, and if he'd put that plan into effect yet. You never knew with Khivar, and they had to be careful. 

Khivar smirked, resting his hands on his desk as he pushed himself up. Discreetly, he pushed the small button under the table, summoning his soldiers. Turning his head slightly, he caught his son's eye and gave a slight nod. Lindsey's lip twitched.

Maria turned her gun to the other occupant of the room. "You too." Lindsey put up his hands in the universal sign of surrender and stood up silently. She squinted at him. "Who are you?"

Lindsey cocked his head to the side. "Who are you?" he echoed playfully.

"Oh, how rude of me," Khivar said. "Lindsey, I don't believe you've met your cousin…what name are you going by these days, Deimon?" Rath growled under his breath and changed the setting on his gun to kill. Khivar just smiled nonchalantly at him, biding his time until…

The sound of a stampede of army boots echoed down the hallway as Khivar's guards stormed into the room, surrounding the three Saviours. 

Khivar grinned wickedly. "Guess you didn't think this one through." He addressed his soldiers without turning away from the intruders. "Capture them." 

Rath cussed under his breath, wishing he had shot Khivar when he had the chance. He fired aimlessly as the guards closed in on him, grabbing him roughly by the arms. 

Khivar stepped closer to his…nephew. Now that Rath was right in front of him, he could see the slight resemblance. There was definitely the little mole right between the eyebrows, the mark of the Rathmeare family, on his forehead. Not to mention the fact that he was as irritating as his mother. 

And no doubt just as fun to kill, too.

"Take them to the courtyard," he said a slow sadistic smirk spreading across his face. "It's been a while since we've had a public execution."

****************************** ******************************

Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace, a swirling mass of colours appeared in mid-air, tossing the air molecules around in a great gust of wind that had no place in a window-less hallway. It grew in diameter gradually until the three travellers could pass through.

Isabel glanced around as she stepped out of the portal. Right next to her, there was a huge metal door with an electronic keypad, a palm scan and a retinal scan. She scowled.

"Damnit, Michael, you said the spell wrong!" she said as she realised that they landed in front of the Granolith chamber instead of _in_ it.

"I did not. I said exactly what it says here," he said pointing indignantly at the paper. She snatched it away from him and studied it. Using her nail, she scraped a speck of dirt off of it, and shoved the paper under his nose.

"That is an 'n', not an 'h', dumbass!" she whispered harshly, thwacking him upside the head.

"Ow! Lay off, Iz!" Michael complained. "Just 'cause you and Alex are into that kind of thing doesn't mean I am."

"What?" she asked confused, before it dawned on her what he meant. Her eyes narrowed in a dangerous glare.

"Okay," Kyle said, stepping in between them to break up the impending fight. "So say the right spell and we'll be able to get in."

"This one won't work from here," Isabel said. "We need a new one."

"Call Alex," Michael ordered as he snuck further down the hall to make sure no one was coming. He motioned for Kyle to do the same on the other end.

****************************** ******************************

'Alex?'

'Yeah, Iz. What do you need?' he asked telepathically, as he searched through his tracking program for Isabel's red blip.

'We need a new spell for the Granolith chamber. Michael screwed it up.'

Alex laughed and turned to Serena. "New spell," he said in explanation. 

She rolled her eyes as she went to her computer to work it out. "I told her not to let Michael say the spell. He sucks at magic."

Faith snorted. Rath wasn't that good at it either, that's why his team had to walk to Khivar's office.

Serena printed the results and gave them to Alex to communicate to Isabel. 

"Now can we go?" Faith asked impatiently.

****************************** ******************************

Maria winced as the soldier's fingers dug into her arms, her soft skin caving in and bruising under his ministrations. She struggled against him, using only a quarter of her strength. Of course, she could easily escape his grip, after all, he was just an ordinary Carnasian and she was the Slayer. She could effortlessly snap his arm at the elbow, crush his legs into dust and break his neck with her pinky in seconds, yet she was letting him drag her through the long halls of the Carnasian palace.

At that moment, she was seriously considering returning Rath's head to Faith in a cardboard box. Leave it to him to think up this ridiculous plan that worked way too frickin' well for her liking. 

And maybe it was partially her fault for not letting Michael talk her out of this part of the plan, but she wasn't about to admit that. 

The soldier tightened his grip on her arm, thick fingers pinching her skin brutally. She scowled.

She really hated decoy duty.

****************************** ******************************

"Okay, soldiers. You don't usually take orders from me. I get that. I don't actually care," Faith said. "I know you'd rather stay home at the base with what's left of your families and wait to die quietly in your room. I can't blame you. I'd rather be home too." She paused looking each of them in the face. "But your generals, your _Saviours_ are out there on Carnath fighting for a chance to save _your_ planet. For _you_. Now you can stay here, where it's safe, where you have a good few hours of oxygen left and maybe hope that Michael gets back in time to clear some more air for your sorry asses, I have no problem with that." She paused again. "Or, you can come with me. Come with us and protect your leaders. This is the last battle, the final frontier, the final countdown…"  
  


"Faith," Serena interrupted in a low voice as Alex snorted under his breath at his sister's corny speech. She nudged him in the ribs.

"Serena, open the portal," Faith said, handing her the paper from her pocket. As Serena recited the spell, Faith returned to her speech. "Your home has been poisoned by this man. Billions of your people are lying out there dead. Suffocated. The life wrenched out of their bodies like…" she cut off as Serena nudged her in the ribs. "If you want to take Khivar down and save Antar, then grab your weapons." She pointed to the weapons table on the right side of the room. "And step through the portal."

The soldiers cheered, rushing to arm themselves before running through the portal. Alex turned to Faith as the portal closed behind the last soldier. 

"No, that wasn't over dramatic," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up, 'Lexi," she said, poking him in the chest with her index finger. "You're just jealous that you don't got the skills." She smiled smugly at him before opening another portal and stepping through.

"Stop calling me that," Alex complained as he followed his sister. 

Serena rolled her eyes. Kids. They may not have been siblings their whole life, but they sure as hell acted like bickering five-year-olds sometimes. 

***************************** ******************************

"What do you think?" Khivar asked as he watched the intruders be escorted to the courtyard.

Lindsey narrowed his eyes as he stared into space. "I think this is a diversion."

Khivar nodded. "It's good to know that the time you spent on Earth in Celeste's care hasn't rendered you completely stupid," he said, walking towards the large window that overlooked the front courtyard of the palace. There was a large open area that would be perfect for the executions. At the edge of his peripheral vision, he could see a bright swirling of colour. A portal.  "Have the army gather in the courtyard," he said. "It seems the Royals are planning an ambush."

****************************** ******************************

Isabel recited the spell this time, and they stepped through the portal, past the wall, into the Granolith chamber. 

The room was dark, with midnight-blue walls and floors that sucked in every trace of light, yet they could still see each other. A replica of the galaxy was painted on the ceiling with tiny shimmering stars. The five-star formation of the Lythian system was painted in the middle of it all, the five planets bigger and brighter than all the other stars. There were no windows and only one door. The walls were bare. 

In the centre of the room, under the Lythian planet formation was a tall, black cone-shaped structure. The Granolith. It sat on an octagonal base, which had a soft white glow that reflected off the dark floors.

"Wow," Kyle said as he walked closer to the Granolith. He had seen it once before, but that was in a dingy cave in Roswell, New Mexico, and it looked like nothing special. But here, in this room, cast in the soft light of its base, it was beautiful.

"Careful," Isabel warned, "we still don't know what…" She was cut off by the shrill wail. 

Kyle looked down to find his ankle in the middle of a long, thin red line. A laser.

***************************** ******************************

Oz growled under his breath as the soldier behind him hit him in the back with the butt of his gun, making him stumble slightly. 

He remembered when Angel had told him about his trip to Pylea. About not being able to control the beast in the new atmosphere. While he was able to go out in the sun without bursting into flames, his vampire side had been stronger and uglier. It had taken more of an effort for his human soul to take over and bury the demon half of himself. Angel had told him once that for a while, he'd thought he'd never return.

As Oz felt the familiar lengthening of his canine teeth, with the edges sharpening in preparation of the kill, he realised that this did not only apply to vampires.

Already, he could feel his control slipping. The wolf was pushing its way to the surface faster than usual, fuelled by an unknown supernatural force that somehow came naturally from the Carnasian atmosphere. He supposed it made sense that since Antar made life so easy for him (never once had he felt the urge to change), one of the other planets would be a bitch. 

Closing his eyes, he recited the words that Riverdog had taught him. The words that somehow summoned his inner human strength and suppressed the wolf that threatened its existence three nights a month. 

He didn't realise that his pace had slowed down considerably since he focussed his energy on the chant.

The soldier hit him in the back again, sending him sprawling on the ground, flat on his face.

"Get up!" the soldier commanded, kicking him in the ribs.

Oz panted heavily as he slowly got on his hands and knees, his breathing coming harder and faster and heavier with every breath. The soldier grabbed him by the collar just as he let out a low growl, deep from the back of his throat.

"Don't touch him!" Maria yelled in a warning that was seconds too late.

Before the soldier even realised what was happening, the werewolf had turned…

And attacked.

***************************** ******************************

"Where are they?" Serena asked, her voice tinged with worry. They had arrived in front of the Carnasian palace about five minutes ago and already the body count was piling up. So far there was no sign of the others. She turned to Faith. "Are you sure they were coming this way?"

"That's what Rath said," Faith replied, tightening her hold on her gun as yet another of their soldiers was shot down. It seriously bothered her that her men were dying while she was hiding behind a rock. She was a Slayer for Christ's sakes. She wasn't meant to sit on the sidelines. "I can sense that he's still alive. I know that he's near, but he's not…" She trailed off, staring into the distance with unfocussed eyes. "Bugger."

Alex raised an eyebrow at her. "Spike-isms?"

"What is it?" Serena asked impatiently. "What happened?"

Just then, a large brown body jumped out the front door, a loud roar bursting past its snarling lips as it attacked anything that moved nearby. 

Serena gasped. "Oz!"

Several of the soldiers had dropped their weapons in shock and horror as the wolf pounced on their teammates. Others ignored their enemies and turned to shoot at it, but the bullets only stunned him, the stinging of his wounds only angering him further. He showed mercy to no-one as he tore through flesh and bone with his teeth. His paws were soaked in blood, with strings of sinew wedged between his fingers and teeth. 

The soldiers didn't stand a chance. 

***************************** ******************************

Michael circled the cone, staring at it blankly. Finally, he stopped in front of it and cocked his head to the side, hoping that the new angle would help him figure out what to do with it. It didn't. 

"Figure it out yet?" Isabel yelled over the screaming siren.

Michael scratched his eyebrow and shrugged. He raised his hand, holding his palm a few inches away from the smooth surface. He could feel the energy humming just under the surface of it. It called to him with its silent song. He closed his eyes, feeling the sweet tingle on his bare skin.

He never noticed the white glow that enveloped his body.

****************************** ******************************


	8. Chapter Eight

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

The werewolf reared back on his hind legs and howled. The Carnasian army was decimated. The ragged flesh of the soldiers hung from his snout, blood trailing behind him as he strolled through the field. Before him, as well as in his wake, lay over a hundred lifeless bodies of Carnasian soldiers… well, the bodies of those who actually stuck around to fight the beast. Most of them opted for running in the opposite direction, squealing like the frightened bunnies they were. They were not worth his time. He liked his food tough and fighting. A challenge. And Carnasian soldiers had a rich, tangy flavour that made his mouth water.

Finding his way to a large shady tree, he circled it until he found the coolest and softest dirt. Licking his chops contentedly, he curled up in his desired spot, happily settling down for a comfortable nap while he digested the delicious meal that had just filled his belly.

* * *

Isabel cocked her gun and pointed directly at the door as Khivar's soldiers continued to bang mercilessly on the other side. Kyle was standing in front of the door, leaning his full weight on the back. She hoped that Michael finished whatever he was doing fast, because there was no way that just Kyle bracing the door could keep the soldiers out, and there was no way that Khivar's guards would be defeated by only the two of them.

She hated to admit it, but it would probably be best if they scrapped this mission. It really was a silly notion that a huge black cone could recreate the stratosphere of an entire planet, even a small one such as Antar.

She caught Kyle's eye as the door swung open a couple of inches before being slammed shut once more. The soldiers wouldn't be held off for much longer. They were going to have to fight or escape.

Kyle's eyes shifted away from her towards where Michael was standing. She frowned when his eyes widened in shock. Turning to look, she gasped.

Michael was gone.

* * *

Jienne Nykheb wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she sat back on her heels. The med-bay was piling up with bodies quickly. They had run out of room an hour ago and had started putting patients on the floor. It was like there was a sudden surge of hypochondria spreading through the base. As the hours passed since the initial attack from Khivar, the number of people with ambiguous medical conditions had increased exponentially. Personally, she thought that they were just trying to reserve spaces near the oxygen tanks before the air ran out in the base.

Groaning, she pushed herself up and walked over to the atmospheric monitor on the wall in the back of the room. She sighed as she read the screen and checked her watch.

Only twenty-three minutes left.

* * *

Khivar was expecting them. It hadn't been very hard to figure out their plan once he placed the players; after all, it was an idiotically simple plan. Two distractions and one infiltration. They sent three to distract him while the other eight, he presumed, were split between distracting his army and going after the Granolith. Any cow at the zoo could have developed it. Frankly, he was insulted by the lack of effort. He fired a laser bullet at the door as it swung open, purposely missing the intruder.

Rath ducked back behind the wall with his gun pulled up against to his chest. That was close. If he'd been just a few milliseconds faster, he would've been shot right between the eyes. He glanced at Maria, who was on the other side of the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes. It was then that he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel at the base of his skull, and the warmth of his captor breathing down his neck. Raising his eyes higher, he could see someone behind Maria, holding a gun to her back. It was Tess.

"Shall we?" a male voice asked from behind him. Tess smirked and nodded, shoving Maria forward into the room.

Khivar was leaning against his desk, tossing a random ornament from hand to hand nonchalantly.

"Maria, Rath. How nice of you to return." He sat the ornament back on his desk and stood up, addressing his son. "Bind them."

* * *

Michael felt the change in the air almost immediately. His eyes shot open and he looked around frantically.

The room was cold, yet there was a prevailing warmth that he couldn't quite explain. It felt oddly comforting, like he knew on some level that he would be eternally safe here. That there was something, or someone, there looking after him. It was a feeling that he didn't get very often. Certainly never when he was this far away from Maria.

Nevertheless, his hand slid around his body to grasp for the gun he always kept at the small of his back, in the waistband of his pants. Swiftly, his hand curled around the handle of his gun…

…that wasn't there.

He looked down, gasping in shock as he realised that he was no longer wearing the uniform that he'd left home in. His army green shirt with maroon and orange Antarian insignias was replaced with a long navy blue shirt that hung loosely from his muscular frame. The dark green pants made of the Antarian equivalent to denim, which was usually part of his uniform, was replaced with snug, black leather pants. His ratty combat boots were replaced with well-worn Doc Martens that he'd missed ever since he left Earth. The platinum chain with the large blue sapphire, which he'd been keeping in his pocket, was now hanging around his neck, like it had always belonged there.

Although the soldier in him was wary of this situation, especially since all of his weapons had mysteriously disappeared, a part of him knew this place. His instincts told him that it was safe, that for some reason, he was meant to be here.

Scratching his eyebrow, Michael began to walk forward, taking in his surroundings, or lack thereof, as he walked past. There was nothing around to direct him, but he felt drawn to a point in the distance. The closer he got to his destination, the clearer it became, until he could just about make out a bright blue shimmer, beckoning him.

The light began to move forward, closing the distance between them faster, until finally, they were face-to-face.

And it wasn't just a light anymore.

It was a woman.

Michael stood silently in front of the woman, not wanting to be the first to speak. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than he was. Her long blonde hair flowed down her back like spun, silky gold, the bright blue sheen that covered her body making it shine brilliantly. Her eyes were a creamy, chocolate brown and her lips were full and just slightly pink. Between her neatly copped eyebrows, there was a tiny mole. One he knew well, since he and his brother both had one in the same spot. She wore a long, navy blue gown with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt. A familiar platinum necklace hung from her neck, the large sapphire resting comfortably on her chest.

As she continued to stare blankly past him, he smiled. He knew who she was.

His mother.

* * *

"Okay, where the hell are we?" Faith sighed as she looked around the maze of hallways. There were at a crossroads without any signs. Each corridor looked like the one before it: dark, dingy and long. It felt like they'd been roaming for hours without getting anywhere.

"Buried in hell," Alex said as he struggled to untangle miles of sticky spider web from various parts of his body.

"This is all your fault," Faith accused, squishing a large green spider that had attempted to climb up her leg.

Alex stopped picking invisible threads from his nose and narrowed his eyes at her. "It so isn't."

"It so is. Who's the computer-programming expert around here? It sure as hell ain't me."

"What's that have to do with anything?"

"You shoulda known where we were goin'."

"Of course. Because I have a map to everywhere in my head."

"That's why you're the navigation geek."

"Guys, quit it," Serena scolded as she squinted at the map she pulled out of her pocket. She cocked her head to the side, trying to decide if they'd turned left three times or four. It seemed that the whole place circled back on itself after a while. She growled in frustration. All the random lines on the page were giving her a headache and the arguing siblings weren't helping, either.

"Okay, this map is useless," she announced, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it over her shoulder. "Faith, do you think you can track Rath?"

"Yeah, easy," Faith said, refocusing on the task at hand. As much as fighting with Alex entertained her, she couldn't ignore the planet full of dead aliens that they were meant to save. "Alex, you better check on the other team while we're at it. They might be able to help if they're done with the Granolith."

Alex nodded and closed his eyes, opening his mental connection to Isabel as Faith and Serena leaned up against a wall, watching. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, worry swimming in their depths.

"Well, what's going on? Are they done?" Faith asked.

"No," Alex said. "Kyle tripped an alarm inside the chamber. Right now, they're trying to keep the guards out, but…" He trailed off, looking at some unseen point out in the distance. "There's nothing in the room they can use for defence."

"Well, did they get the Granolith to work?" Faith asked.

"That's the thing. A few minutes ago, Michael disappeared."

* * *

"I am Sharyan Deeyaala Rathmeare, the keeper of the Granolith, sector 3665, era 973. If you are receiving this message, then I have died…" She paused, and Michael could see a partial sadness lingering in her brown eyes, even though she remained in a zombie-like state. "…I have died, as have the last in the line of the Rathmeare family, and thus, a new line of keepers has been selected." She paused again, blinking for the first time since she appeared. "That new line starts with you. I am here to guide you through the inner workings of the Granolith, until you are able to control it yourself. This…"

"Mom?" Michael interrupted in a disbelieving, and undoubtedly disappointed whisper. He'd dreamt of finding her one day. It was one of the only things keeping him going through years of abuse under Hank's hand. His brief encounters with her through Deimon's memories had only made that dream seem real, more concrete. It felt like she really was out there somewhere, just waiting for her son to return.

But as he watched the ghostly figure in front of him, he felt that dream flutter away. This couldn't be her. In the memory flashes, she was lively and full of spirit. This person in front of him was dim and…lifeless. Just an empty shell of what he had seen in his flashbacks of Deimon's life. It was like her whole soul was gone.

And indeed, on some level he had expected it, but it still saddened to him to find that she was dead. It was just another dream completely crushed. With a sad sigh, he resigned himself to listening to the robotic spectre.

But she wasn't talking anymore.

Sharyan abruptly stopped talking, focussing on the man in front of her. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in every feature and comparing it to the picture that haunted her mind throughout her entrapment within the Granolith.

"Deimon?" she whispered, reaching forward to touch his face. "You're alive? You made it?"

Michael nodded silently, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, pulling him in for a full hug, bouncing excitedly on her toes. "So my efforts were not in vain! I thought I'd lost you forever." She held him at arm's length, pushing on his shoulders to make him spin around. "And how you've grown!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him forward onto a baby blue couch that appeared out of nowhere. "Tell me, how long have I been gone? How much of your life have I missed? I suppose it was a lot, judging by your size. When last I saw you, I could lift you in my arms easily. Now, I suspect you could do the same to me," she rambled eagerly, a huge grin on her face.

"I'm twenty," he started.

"Eighteen years!" she interrupted. "So many years! I can't believe I've been gone so long."

"Actually," Michael said, shifting uncomfortably. "It's been longer. I'm not the…original…Deimon."

Sharyan scratched her eyebrow and frowned in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Deimon, the original Deimon, died eleven years ago, in battle." She gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth in shock. "He was twenty-three."

"So…you're his son?" she asked.

"No, I…"

"Was it Khivar? That evil, smarmy bastard, I'd kill him now if I were alive," she muttered angrily, clenching her fists. "What happened? Did he attack Pylea? Is Xuni alright?"

"I-Deimon never made it to Pylea. The ship was attacked. It crashed on Antar, where I was found by the Royal family."

"Oh, Siare, bless her soul," Sharyan murmured.

"He didn't remember who he was, or where he came from, so they adopted him and named him Rath." Michael paused, as if something just occurred to him. "I guess that was probably a hint, huh?"

"Yes, of course, because you are from the _Rath_meare family. Any Royal would be able to tell." She touched his forehead with her index finger. "That's our family marking."

Michael scratched his eyebrow self-consciously and continued with his story. "Rath was General of the armies and became second-in-command when Prince Zan ascended to the throne. Around then, the war between Carnath and Antar started to build up, when Khivar realised that we had the Granolith."

"A pointless search on his part. Only a suitable heir from the original line can control the Granolith," she commented. Michael stared at her for a few seconds. "What?"

"You don't know," he stated.

"Don't know what?"

"Who Khivar is."

"A complete maniac, what else is there?"

"He's your brother."

"What? You must be mistaken."

"I'm not. Kyden is Khivar."

Sharyan shook her head in disbelief, running a hand through her hair. "No, I don't believe it," she insisted. "Ky…my Ky? I-it's not possible. It just isn't. I don't believe you."

"I know you don't want to, but it's the truth. Your brother killed us both," he said firmly. "He took my family away from me back then and now…" Michael stopped abruptly as he remembered the real reason for him being here. In all the excitement of finally finding his mother, he'd almost forgotten about the mission. "Before, you told me that you'd help me control the Granolith. Does that still stand?"

"I…what?" She stared at him, confused. "Yes. Of course it does. What do you…?"

"I need to…the Granolith; can it recreate the atmosphere of a planet? Kind of like a reset?"

"What's this for?" she asked.

"Yesterday, Khivar launched a chemical attack on Antar," he explained, "It changed the atmosphere so much that full Antarians can't survive there anymore. And I can only do so much with my powers; I can't fix a whole planet by myself. As it is, the fix I did on the base is probably running out."

"My God," she whispered, closing her eyes. "And all this, it's because of Kyden?"

Michael nodded. "Yes." He checked his watch, rolling his eyes when he realised it had disappeared with all his weapons. "Can it be done?"

Sharyan closed her eyes for a second before answering. When she reopened them, he could see the worry in her eyes. "It can, but Deimon…"

"Good, show me how," he interrupted.

"It takes a lot of energy and control. I might have been able to accomplish it in my prime as a keeper, but it would have completely drained me. You've never even tapped into the Granolith's power. Deimon, that kind of power…it could kill you."

Michael hung his head, taking a deep breath as he thought about Maria and Rath and the rest of his friends. His family. Then he thought of his people, lying dead on the streets, with those who had survived not looking much better. He couldn't just leave them to die. Even if it cost him everything.

"Show me."

* * *

'Michael? Michael!'

There was no answer.

Maria had been calling for him in her mind for what seemed like days, but was actually about ten minutes. Although it didn't show on the outside, she could feel the panic rising in her throat, just waiting for the chance to release itself in a fit of hysteria.

A few minutes ago, just after she and Rath had been 'recaptured' by Khivar, she'd felt a large surge of power through her connection with Michael. A surge she usually only got when Deimon was making an appearance. Although Michael and Deimon weren't completely the same person, for indeed they had small differences in mentality, she still had some connection to her boyfriend's past life. She could still feel Michael, even when Deimon was at the surface.

But this time was different. This time, she couldn't feel either of them. There was just a vast emptiness in her mind, a gaping hole where Michael's presence usually occupied. It was like he wasn't there anymore.

Tears stung her eyes as she thought about what that could mean.

She shook her head slightly, banishing the thought from her head. No, she wouldn't believe it. She would keep trying to contact him.

'Michael!'

* * *

"Say the spell!" Kyle yelled as the soldier shoved the door yet again. Veins of effort were popping up in his neck and on his forehead as he forced the door closed. His muscles were starting to burn in a way he hadn't felt since that time he'd tried to beat Paulie's record for most bench presses four years ago. He could already feel his limbs trembling from the strain. One way or another, this was going to end soon. "Iz!"

Isabel had rushed over to the Granolith, banging on its edges and calling for Michael. She turned to Kyle. "We can't just leave him here!"

"We don't know where he is!"

"He's in the Granolith, where else could he be? There's no other way out."

Kyle grunted as the door swung open a few inches, hitting him in his already sore shoulder.

"Look, Iz, I know you don't want to leave him, but we don't have a choice."

"We do have a choice, Kyle, we can stay here and fight!"

"Fight where? Isabel, we have no cover, we'll die in the first five minutes."

"Kyle, we…"

"No," Kyle said firmly. "Open the portal."

"But…"

"No. Even if he is in the Granolith, we wouldn't know how to get him out, and neither will they," he reasoned, gesturing to the door. He looked into her eyes, holding her gaze steadily. "Open it."

Isabel sighed and nodded, closing her eyes as she pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from her back pocket. Standing directly in front of the Granolith, she recited the spell.

* * *

"What a way for this to end, hmm?" Khivar said as he slowly paced in front of his prisoners. He stopped in front of Maria, who continued to stare straight past him, green eyes glazed over. He grabbed her roughly by the chin. "Am I boring you?"

Maria's gaze snapped to his face, anger and hatred clouding over her features as she saw the man in front of her.

Khivar patted her cheek and smiled at her patronisingly. "That's better." He stepped back, moving to stand in front of Rath. "I always thought that I would defeat you out on the battlefield, in the heart of this war. How nice of you to give yourself up to me. It saves me the trouble. It's less fun but…more practical." He slowly paced around the two captives, coming to a stop behind Rath's chair. Suddenly, he wrenched his head back by the hair, practically yelling in his face. "Did you really think I would be fooled so easily?" He tossed Rath's head forward in disgust. "Your friends will never get the Granolith. It's too well protected. I've been prepared for this moment for years, Rath, and there is absolutely no way that I'll lose now."

"I can think of ten different ways that you'll lose," Maria growled.

"Yeah, and all of them include your death at someone else's hand." He pouted in fake disappointment. "But oh, dear me, what'll the fun be in that?" He walked over to Lindsey's side, posing with his hand cupped under his chin, index finger tapping his chin as he pretended to be deep in thought. "Unless…well, you know how I love a good show. Why, yes, why had I never thought of this before? I shall give you your wish at having someone else kill you. Lindsey will do the honours." He patted his son on the shoulder. "Do you still have that Earth camera?" A slow, evil smile spread across Lindsey's face as he began to follow his father's train of thought. "It'll be like that delightful program I watched on Earth once. What was it called? 'Alien Autopsy' I believe." He leaned in, stopping a few inches short of Maria's face. "And you _are_ the alien here, aren't you?"

Maria narrowed her eyes at him, pulling at the ropes that bound her wrists, before opting for the next best thing. Khivar just leaned back, chuckling mockingly as he wiped the spit off his face.

"So cute," he said with a smirk, before turning to Lindsey, who was turned towards the back wall, glaring at the blue marble. "What are you doing?" he asked, curiously.

"There's some…" Lindsey was cut off by the beep of his com-link. Answering it, he turned away from the wall and frowned. "That was the lieutenant in charge of guarding the Granolith."

"What about it?"

"There're intruders in the chamber. They haven't been able to get in yet."

"Useless fools," Khivar muttered angrily under his breath. Running a hand through his hair, he turned to the small blonde who had been standing quietly in the corner, awaiting instruction. "Tess, take care of it. Bring those intruders to me."

Tess nodded, and left silently.

Rath smirked smugly. "Problems?"

"None of your concern," Khivar roared. "Lindsey!"

The man was once again staring at the wall. "There's someone coming. Through the passages."

Khivar raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know this?"

"I don't know. I just feel someone. Somebody familiar."

Maria and Rath shared a look. Khivar noticed. "How much longer until they're upon us?"

"A few minutes?"

Khivar sighed in annoyance, tossing his son a gun. "Well prepare to greet our new guests, then." He stopped and looked at Rath, who had a glazed look on his face. And Khivar wasn't a stupid man, by any means. He knew what that look meant. "Oh no you don't." With a swiftness that rivalled any slayer, he whipped out another gun and shot him in the head. Rath didn't even have time to flinch as the laser bullet lodged itself in his skull, right between the eyes. "We can't have you sending them a message, can we?" he said, smirking evilly at the limp body that sat before him.

Maria gasped as Rath slumped forward, tiny drops of blood trickling from his wound. "Rath? Rath, no! Wake up, get up now!" she cried in vain. She knew he was dead.

"Goodbye, dear nephew, you'll not be sorely missed."

* * *

"That's the door," Faith said, pointing to a large square in the wall, highlighted by a thin line of light.

"You're sure?" Serena asked.

Faith narrowed her eyes at her. "Yeah, I'm sure." She pressed her weight against the door, but suddenly stopped, grabbing her head as a sharp pain ripped through her skull.

"Faith?" Alex said, concerned.

"Argh," she cried. "God, it hurts…"

"What is it?" Serena asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What hurts?"

Faith was panting now as she struggled to force the pain back. "Ra…Rath," she gasped as she struggled to form a connection with her boyfriend. Something was wrong. She could feel it. If only she could talk to him, she could figure out what…

…and suddenly she realised. Suddenly she figured out why it felt like a part of her brain had been torn out of her skull, why her soul suddenly felt so empty.

"No…no, no…" she muttered, shaking her head as she backed up to the wall and slid down to sit on the dusty floor.

"What? Faith, you're scaring me," Serena said.

Faith looked up at them, and Alex gasped as he saw his sister, his strong, tough, badass sister crying. Big, fat, salty tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as she stared at him. "He's gone…I-I can't feel him anymore." Alex's eyes widened as he figured out what she meant. Without hesitation, he swept her up into a comforting hug. "Rath's dead."

* * *

"Your highness," someone exclaimed in surprise. Jienne turned away from her patient and watched, with everyone else in the room, as the king walked into the med-bay.

"Thank God you're here!" one of the older patients cried. "We will surely be saved from this disaster! Pray tell, if I may be so bold, what is your plan to save us all?" Max stared at the old woman, not really seeing or hearing her. His mind was lost in a fog that only allowed for the most basic of Max's motor functions: getting to Liz. Without a word, Max stepped around his faithful subject and headed towards the Royal morgue.

Jienne sighed, watching the entire room deflate as the red door slammed shut behind the uncaring king. She glanced at her watch and counted down.

Ten minutes left…

* * *

Faith pushed Alex away and pulled herself off the floor, hastily wiping away her tears. The pain that had settled in her eyes after her revelation had slowly but surely shifted; and now only anger and grief resided in their chocolate depths. She reached into her hip-holster, pulling out her favourite gun and cocking it roughly.

"That bastard won't live another minute," she growled as she moved towards the door. She turned to her team, who were also pulling out their guns. "You ready?" She didn't wait for a reply as she pulled back and jump kicked the door open. It all seemed to happen in slow motion after that.

Maria's gaze snapped away from Rath's dead body to the far wall as it flew open.

Lindsey's finger tightened around the trigger at the same moment Maria yelled a warning at her friends.

Faith instinctively raised her gun and fired at Lindsey.

Milliseconds before the two bullets crossed paths, a portal opened up ten feet above the floor in the space between, and a pale body with platinum blonde hair fell through, catching both bullets in the shoulder before hitting the ground with a loud thump. The whole room froze as the figure sat up with a grimace on his face.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, glancing between the two parties, then back at his aching wound. "Bloody kids. That's the last time I play the soddin' babysitter."

"Spike?"

That seemed to put everyone back into action.

* * *

Max sat down on the chair he'd placed by her bedside. She hadn't moved an inch since he last saw her, which was to be expected since she was…Tears pricked the back of his eyes as he picked up her hand and kissed the back.

"How could I have let this happen?" he asked for what seemed like the millionth time. He asked that same question every time he came here, but he never got the answer he needed. "How could I let you die? I never even…"

"She can't tell you the answer. She's already dead," a familiar voice echoed from behind him.

Max jumped up from his chair and spun around, gasping in shock. A young woman stood by the door, her long brown hair blowing in non-existent wind, and her petit body lighted by a bright white glow that seemed to shine from her skin itself. A pair of brown, doe eyes smiled at him from across the room as she spoke.

"Liz!" Max gasped.

"Hello Max."

"You're alive!"

Liz shook her head sadly. "No, I'm not alive. I haven't been for a while." Max's shoulders slumped and he flopped back into his chair, all the energy sucked out of him as the truth smacked him in the face again.

Liz sighed and floated over, following his gaze to her own dead body. It was depressing, and slightly disturbing, to see herself lying there, perfectly preserved in the Royal morgue as if waiting for a miracle to breathe warm life into her otherwise cold corpse. Suppressing a shudder, she turned back to Max, who was staring at her now as he held the hand of her corpse.

"Are you here to stay? With me?" Max asked, hopefully. Liz shook her head sadly.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You already know the answer," she said gently. "You told it to Isabel a million times when we thought Alex was dead."

Max sighed and looked towards the body on the bed. "I know. I just…miss you…"

"I know," Liz replied, caressing his face lightly with ethereal fingers. He looked up at her touch, locking eyes with a ghost. "I know you do. But you have to move on, Max."

"But Liz…"

"No. The Liz you knew is dead. She's lying on the bed in front of you with no breath, no life."

"But you're still here. You're talking to me right now…"

"But I'm not real. None of this is real, Max, and you have to let go. I'm dead, but you're not." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling non-existent tears rolling down her non-existent cheeks. "You still have a Destiny to fulfil, Max."

"My only Destiny is with you."

"It can't be, Max, you know that." She sighed, moving away from him and walking towards the door. Waving her hand over the red wood, she made the surface suddenly clear. Max could now see what was happening in the med-bay beyond. Bodies littered every square inch of the room, lying on the beds, sitting on the floor, standing against the walls. There were young men and old women and tiny children. Tall people, short people, fat people. It didn't matter what they looked like, for they all had the same expression on their faces.

Despair.

Worry.

But the scariest was the acceptance. The acceptance that they all would be dead within minutes and that there was no one that could help them. Each eye flitted towards the clock intermittently, subconsciously counting down to their own deaths.

"Those are your people, Max. They respect you. They look up to you. They _love_ you, Max. You're their king, their _leader_. It's your Destiny to lead them."

"But what if I don't _want_ that Destiny? What if I don't _want_ to lead them, Liz? All I ever wanted was to have a normal life. A normal life with you."

"That can't happen, Max. And you can't fight your Destiny." She waved her hand over the door, returning it to its original state, before turning back to Max. "Whether you like it or not, you were born to rule these people, and I won't let you throw your birthright away like that." She stared at him seriously. "I saw what happened back there. How you treated that woman." Max at least had the decency to look ashamed. "You can't keep doing this. That's not the Max I know. The Max I know cares for everybody. He comforts those in pain and tries to help them. I know, because he's helped me before."

"And look where that got you," he muttered bitterly.

"You're not listening, Max. That doesn't matter now." She grabbed him by the chin and pointed towards the door. "_They _are what matter now. Your people are what matter."

Max stared at her for a few seconds before nodding slowly. "You're right. I have a duty to my people. They believe in me unconditionally and I should treat them with the same courtesy."

Liz grinned widely, proudly. "There's the Max I love."

And with that, she began to fade from view.

"Liz, wait!" Max exclaimed. "Will I see you again?"

"Probably not," she replied, her voice echoing as she became more and more transparent. "Goodbye, Max. I love you."

"I swear, I'll find a way to bring you back to life! You'll see! I won't let you down this time."

"It's too late."

And with those last words, she winked completely out of existence.

* * *

The darkness slid apart like elevator doors, opening into a blindingly bright baby blue room. Sharyan gestured for him to follow her as she walked into the room. When the doors closed behind them, she pressed her hand to the left wall, palm glowing white for a short second before she removed her hand. Michael raised his eyebrows in surprise as the room lurched, then started to move upwards.

"An elevator?"

"This will take us to the control room. From there, you will be able to perform your task," she explained, dully. He could tell that she wasn't happy about this.

Seconds later, the doors opened into another large room. This one had definite floors, walls and a ceiling, unlike the navy-blue room, and the elevator before it. The floor was covered in a plush, royal blue carpet, which stretched from one sky-blue wall to the other. The ceiling was painted midnight blue, with tiny white stars scattered across the surface, a scene similar to the one in the Granolith chamber. At the far end of the room, there was a huge screen that stretched across almost the entire wall. Beneath the screen was a small platform, with the picture of a silver handprint, surrounded by the Lythian star formation, and a table covered with different coloured buttons.

"This is the control room," Sharyan said, walking into the room. Michael stopped gaping and hurried to follow her as the elevator doors began to close on him. "Anything you want to do with the Granolith can be done from here. Over the years, Lythians have managed to tap into the Granolith's energy using a special crystal key. It has been used as transportation and power. However, only the keeper is allowed to enter here, and only the keeper can hone the Granolith's power and use it to the full extent of its potential." She turned to him, watching as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his senses stretching throughout the entire room. He was practically basking in the power that throbbed and pulsated in the room. "You can feel it, can't you?" He opened his eyes, looking at her. "The raw power. It touches you, as it did me many years ago."

Michael nodded his head in wonder, walking towards the control panel at the back of the room. The instant he touched it, it came to life, and all the buttons lit up. Then the walls started to shimmer, and a rich, emerald tone spread over the imaginary plaster, gradually changing the colour scheme from blue to green.

Sharyan grinned, happily. "It recognises you." Michael turned to his mother, eyebrow raised in question. "The Granolith adapts itself to its keeper's taste, so that you'll feel comfortable. Green must mean something to you. It always has, even since I first brought you here as a baby. It would always change to this beautiful shade of green." Michael smiled wistfully, thinking of Maria, but it soon faded into an unhappy frown. If this was as bad as Sharyan said it was, he was never going to see her again. "It was always blue for me," she continued, not noticing her son's expression. "It's the royal colour…" she trailed off, looking into the distance. "Your father had blue eyes…" Shaking her head, she returned to the task at hand. "You'll need to use the control panel to work the Granolith for now. When you are more advanced, all you'll need is the power of thought." Sharyan watched as he experimentally placed his right hand on the handprint, eyes widening in amazement as it glowed red. "Or perhaps you don't need it after all."

"I feel like…I know how this works." He moved his hand and turned to her. "…but I don't remember…"

"You were almost through your training when I had to send you away," she said, nodding. "It's not surprising that you remember, even if it might be subconscious on your part. Some of it's already engrained."

"But I was two when…"

"I sent you away, I know. Children in my family go through three years of silence after they're born. In that time, they are linked with the Granolith. The information needed to control it is loaded into the subconscious mind, where it is stored until that child becomes a keeper. In all actuality, you should have fifty percent of the information you need already." She sighed, somewhat sadly. "It won't take long for me to teach you."

Michael smiled at her, and then turned back to the control panel. "So, what do I have to do?"

She moved over to his side and pressed a series of buttons on the desk. The screen turned on, suddenly showing a small red planet, rotating in space. Antar. She turned back to him. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late."

"I have to," he stated, quietly, yet firmly. Sharyan closed her eyes, as she felt tears threatening to fall, shaking her head.

"So determined," she muttered, fondly. "Then I wish you good luck," she said, pulling him into a hug. "And I pray you return to me." Sniffling, she ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. "God, I don't even know what your name is now."

"It's Michael," he answered, soaking up the feeling of the mother he never had. The one he'd probably never see again. "Michael Guerin."

"Michael. That's lovely. Hopefully, we can talk more when you finish. I still have much to catch up on." She kissed his forehead again and gave him one last squeeze. "I love you, my baby boy." Pulling away, she gestured to the platform with the handprint. "All you need to do is touch the handprint and think of what you want to do. The Granolith should do the rest," she said, wiping her eyes. "I doubt you can do it all in one go, but, it should be enough to keep them alive for just a bit longer."

"Thank you," he said seriously. She nodded with a small smile as she stepped back and let him work.

Placing his hand on the handprint, Michael closed his eyes, summoning an image of the Antar of three days ago into his mind. The Antar that had just freed itself and was finally living after eleven years of oppression under Khivar's reign. The Antar that was ridiculously cold to every human, but was teeming with lively people. He pictured an Antar that _lived_.

In the depths of his mind, a proverbial switch was flipped. And suddenly…

…All went dark.

* * *

Isabel grunted with exertion as she struggled to push the heavy black cone into the portal. Extra strength or not, the Granolith was a total bitch to move.

"Kyle! Come here and help me!"

"Iz, just leave it! Michael will be safe in there."

"I…won't…leave…him," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Ugh!" With a final yell, she threw all of her strength and weight into pushing the huge cone forward…

Just then, the Granolith dissolved into a multitude of tiny, shimmering specks of light that circled around in its original cone shape like a mini tornado.

Isabel gasped as she pitched forward, the momentum from her effort to push the Granolith sending her sailing through the dissolved cone and straight into the portal.

Kyle paused for a second to gape as the tiny lights floated through the roof of the chamber before sprinting towards the portal and diving through.

Meanwhile, just outside of the chamber, Tess pushed her way through the hoard of Carnasian guards.

"Move!" she yelled, before kicking the door down. To the surprise of all the soldiers, it fell with little resistance. Tess stormed inside just in time to see the tips of Kyle's boots pass through the portal milliseconds before it swirled closed.

"Damn it!"

* * *

Alex writhed on the ground, still not entirely sure how it happened. One minute, he'd been attacking the most sadistic bastard he'd ever met, and the next, there was a burning fire in his thigh that sent him flying back into a wall and sliding down to the floor in pain. In hindsight, it was probably stupid of him to disregard Lindsey as just another regular human. Man, that guy was fast.

"You alright, mate?" Spike asked, kneeling next to him. It seemed that the evil pair had forgotten about him for the time being.

"I just got shot in the leg. Of course I'm alright," Alex muttered, sarcastically.

"War wasn't kind to you, was it?" Spike asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No kidding." Alex rolled his eyes. "Help me up." Spike nodded and pulled him up by the shoulders, cussing under his breath as the movement irritated his own wound. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Actually, don't bother. We don't have time to find out."

Alex ripped off the sleeve of his uniform and tied it around his leg. It didn't end the pain, but it stopped the bleeding enough for him to at least live through this fight. He gingerly tried putting weight on his aching limb, surveying the room from his new vantage point.

He was just in time to see Maria get thrown across the room by a strong right hook from Khivar. She slammed into Rath's dead body; tipping over the chair he was sitting in and smashing it into splinters. She didn't get up.

Faith was straddling Lindsey's chest, slamming her fists repeatedly into his face, but he didn't seem to be concerned. In fact, it looked like he was enjoying it, if the wide grin on his face was any indication.

Serena looked livid as Khivar walked closer to her, staring at her curiously.

"I know you from somewhere," he said, cocking his head to the side.

"You should, father," she spat.

Khivar smirked. "Still have your mother's spirit, I see," he said, closing the distance between them before she even had time to react. He stoked her cheek softly. "Have you come to join my side, Serena?"

She jerked away from his touch. "Never!" She swung her fist out, but he caught her wrist before it could make contact with his face. He quickly grasped the other one before she could retaliate.

"Dear child, what makes you think you have a choice?" He leaned in and whispered into her ear. "Your brother didn't."

Serena shrieked in rage as she struggled against his grip, but Khivar was too strong. He pressed her roughly up against the wall, shoving her so hard that her bones almost ground against the hard marble.

Spike suddenly sprinted to her side, pulling Khivar away and punching him in the jaw. Khivar looked amused as he tossed the vampire away with little more that a flick of his wrist. It seemed that not only Michael and Maria gained more strength with the prophecy. Khivar seemed to have a lot more power in his muscles than the average Carnasian.

And with that revelation, Alex knew that he couldn't take him on head-to-head and the only people who could were either incapacitated or just plain missing. Alex gritted his teeth in frustration. This was the first sign of an imminent defeat and he didn't like it. He wasn't going to let that happen.

Alex reached into the back of his pants and pulled out his gun, aiming at the wicked warlord. But just as his finger tightened around the trigger, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and fell to the ground with a dull thud. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Faith being flung off Lindsey's chest and slamming through the window.

Tess re-holstered her gun as she stepped over Alex's body, smirking smugly. Khivar turned and smiled at her, still not releasing Serena.

"Have you secured the Granolith?" he asked. At her nervous look, his smiling eyes turned hard and cold, a dark glare shadowing his face.

"W-well…um…"

Khivar stormed angrily over to the small blonde, paying no mind to Serena, who'd just slumped to the floor, a groaning mass of bruises.

"Did you or did you not secure the Granolith, Tess?"

"K-Khivar…I kinda, um…no," she said, meekly. She could see his fists clench tightly at his side. His knuckles turned white, as if the blood there was fleeing from the anger that would most likely be released through his fists.

"You let them have the Granolith?" he bellowed.

"S-It wasn't my fault! Th-they were gone b-before I got there, Khivar, I swear. I-it wasn't my fault," she pleaded. Her blue eyes widened as he wrapped his hand around her throat, lifting her off the ground effortlessly by the head. "P-please…d-don't…"

"Don't what, little girl?" he asked, menacingly. "Don't kill you? You want me to spare your life? For what reason would I do such a thing?"

"P-please…m-my son…"

"Your son," he echoed scornfully. "Zan. He is of absolutely no use to me. His life is worth nothing." He smirked as if he just thought of something. "I shall enjoy killing him."

"No! No please," she begged.

His eyes narrowed. "You bore me now."

And faster than Tess could blink, he brought his other hand up to her head and jerked her skull suddenly to the right, snapping her neck as if it were nothing more than a rotted toothpick.

Khivar watched dispassionately as Tess' body slumped to the ground, a dead pile of flesh, before turning back to his daughter.

"Now, where were we?"

* * *

A groan escaped her lips as she stirred from her prone position on the soft dirt outside the Carnasian palace. The sun beat down on her face, warming the scratched skin. Every single bone and joint, and…pretty much all of the categories of body parts she could possibly have ached.

"Note to self," she muttered under her breath as she awkwardly rolled onto her back. "The window is not the door's silent cousin."

She squinted her eyes as she peered upwards, past the blindingly bright blue sun, to the purple sky of Carnath. A flock of oddly coloured birds flew overhead in a triangular formation, similar to that of birds on Earth. Her brow furrowed as they suddenly stopped above the palace and circled around a certain spot, creating a spinning spiral of sorts with their little bodies. Pulling herself off the ground, she raised a hand to shade her eyes from the sun as she watched them.

She could now make out tiny white lights, like stars in a shimmering tornado, rising out of the palace roof, the birds leading it through the purple sky like special escorts.

"Weird," she murmured to herself as she refocused her eyes on the window that she had just fallen through.

And a sudden surge of anger flooded through her veins as she saw a shadow pass the open hole in the marble wall.

Khivar.

With an angry snarl on her lips, she clenched her fists at her sides, ignoring the hollow crack her knuckles made, and stormed to the side doors of the palace.

She would kill that bastard if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

"You know, I never wanted a daughter," he started, pacing in front of Serena with his hands clasped behind his back. Serena rolled her eyes. She could tell she was in for another of Khivar's self-indulgent soliloquies.

"Is that supposed to hurt me?" she asked.

Khivar went on as if she hadn't said anything. "No, girls are too much trouble. Much, much more than they're worth. I grew up seeing it. My mother, my whining brat of a sister. They sucked the life out of my father's body with their undue stresses, until he died a withered old man with nothing left of his mind but the senseless gibberish of a crazy man. They were the banes of my entire childhood." He crouched down in front of her. She still hadn't found the strength to stand up, and could do nothing but lie in his shadow, listening to his every word. He smirked. "Even your mother was a worthless addition to the gene pool."

"Don't speak of my mother that way. You don't have the right," she sneered.

"Don't I? She was my wife for eight years, was she not? I put up with her crap for that long without killing her wretched self, I think I have a right to speak of her as I wish."

Serena looked away from her father, instead switching her gaze to her brother, who stood silently behind him, watching her curiously. "Lindsey, how could you join him? How can you fight by his side after what he did to us? To Mom?"

"He's my father," Lindsey answered simply. He narrowed his eyes at her. "You are not someone I remember. He's my family."

"I'm your family, too, Lindsey," Serena said. "Don't you remember? I'm your sister. Your twin."

Lindsey winced as a sudden memory flashed through his brain…

_Two teenagers crouched in a corner, the shadows from the bleachers casting black lines over their faces as they panted for breath. The small brunette girl turned towards the boy and grinned reassuringly at him. The tanned skin around her eye was already turning red from the punch she'd taken in the face, and she sported the bruise proudly. The boy frowned at her._

_"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered harshly, grabbing her arm roughly._

_"Saving your ass, what's it look like? Now shush, they'll hear us," she said, rolling her eyes. She ducked back into the shadows as half the football team passed by the bleachers. "What'd you do to get 'em so pissed, anyway?"_

_"Slept with Anderson's girlfriend," he said, nonchalantly. She scoffed, leaning up to peer through the bleachers again as the angry mob moved further along. "Serena."_

_She turned. "What?"_

_"Why the hell'd you jump into the fight? They could've killed you," he scolded._

_She smiled at him. "Us twins have to stick together, right?" she said, holding out her pinkie finger to him. _

_He grinned and nodded; joining their pinkies in a handshake they'd been doing for the past fifteen years. "Always."_

Lindsey blinked at her, his brow furrowing. "I-I don't have a sister," he insisted, eyes flicking between them in confusion.

"That's right, son," Khivar said. "I would never punish you with one. This…woman is nothing but a liar who wishes only for you to spare her worthless life."

Lindsey nodded, his confused expression settling into a calmed smirk, seemingly appeased by his father's explanation.

"Lindsey, you can't believe him. You know me," Serena pleaded. "H-he did something to your memory, but deep down you know me." She shifted, so that she was higher up on the wall. "You can feel me, I know you can, just…try, Lindsey, remember."

Lindsey blinked and grabbed his head as a searing pain suddenly sliced through his head, and blurred images flashed before his mind's eyes…

_'Lindsey!' He could hear the voice calling to him, though he was pretty sure it wasn't out loud, since he couldn't hear a thing besides his own screams. He didn't have a clue where he was because he couldn't see anything beyond the images flashing behind his eyelids. He flinched away from the hand that landed on his shoulder, instinctively backing away from the unseen phantom, his screams replaced with pathetic whimpers. _

_"Lindsey, honey, please. Tell me what's wrong." He could faintly hear a voice pleading from somewhere to his right. It wasn't the same voice from inside his head. This one sounded older, but he couldn't focus on anything except the memories in his head. "Kyden, is this normal? This can't be normal."_

_A deep voice answered her from far off. "It's just a natural process in his development, Celeste. Just another annoying part of my family trait." There were some footsteps, and then the male voice got louder, like he came closer. "I'm sure he'll stop soon." Just the feel of the man near him sent shivers down his spine, and another memory spiralling out of the hole he'd buried it in._

**_A blonde woman hung limply by the wrists in the middle of the room. The tips of her toes dragged along the floor as she swung back and forth from the force of the blows to her back. Dark red blood soaked through her torn, white gown. _**

****

**_For hours it seemed, he sat there, watching as his father flung a thick leather strap at her back with a sickening crack, listening as she sobbed in pain._**

****

**_"Did you think you could get away with stealing the Granolith?" He cracked the whip against her tattered flesh again. "Its power is mine and mine alone to control." She screamed as the thick leather opened another bloody groove in her back. "Your pathetic son was never strong enough to possess such power." Lindsey flinched as there was another crack of the whip against her back. Kyden walked to the front of her body, lightly caressing her skin with the thick leather, wrapping the whip around her neck. "Now tell me where he is so that I may end his existence before he has the chance to live through another pathetic lifetime." He pulled on the whip, making her gasp as he cut off her air supply. "Hmm?"_**

****

_Lindsey screamed again, scrambling away from the man…from his father. "No! No! Stop hurting the lady! Don't hurt the lady!" He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. _

_Kyden scowled at the closed door, folding his arms over his chest, annoyed that his son was so weak. How would he help him rule his empire if he couldn't even handle the torture of an enemy?_

_Serena walked over to the bathroom door, pressing her ear against the white wood, and closing her eyes in concentration. 'Lindsey!' _

****

Khivar glared down at his daughter, oblivious to, or perhaps ignoring, his son's plight. He was confident in the fact that Lindsey wouldn't turn on him, not after the job he'd done on his mind, so all his attention was fixed on the traitor that came from his own flesh and blood.

"I always suspected that you were a waste of flesh," he murmured, crouching down beside her and running a hand through her hair. "If I'd known you existed before you were born, I would have killed you before Celeste even noticed you were gone." He smirked at her. "Well, she's not here to stop me now." He glanced around the room at her unconscious teammates. "And neither are any of your useless friends." Suddenly, he wrapped his hand around her neck and lifted her off the ground. "Pity."

Serena kicked and struggled as he squeezed on her neck, cutting off her air supply. Screwing her eyes shut, she made one last vain attempt at getting help from Khivar's second-in-command with a connection she hadn't used in at least ten years. 'Lindsey! Help me! Please!'

Khivar chuckled as his daughter's head started to turn blue and her struggling slowed as her life gradually ebbed from her body.

"The satisfaction in this is almost as great as when I killed that wretched sister of mine. Imagine the rush I'd get from killing your worthless mo-"

Khivar's voice was cut off as he felt a searing pain through his chest. Eyes widening in shock, he dropped Serena and turned his head to see his attacker…

…And Lindsey stood there, a small knife poised in his hand, still dripping with thick, red blood. _His_ blood.

"You," Khivar snarled as he lunged at him in anger. Lindsey easily shoved him back, sending him tumbling to the floor.

Khivar growled as he pushed himself to his feet, anger flooding his entire being. "You disappoint me, boy," he said, glaring at his son as he discreetly reached for the gun buried in a hidden pocket in the back of his pants.

"Nothin' makes me feel better, Dad," Lindsey spat, stepping closer to him with the knife.

Khivar smirked. "Too bad." In a flash, he drew his gun forward and aimed it at Lindsey's head…

…and suddenly there was a loud bang as a bullet coursed through the air…

…and lodged itself in Khivar's neck.

He looked up, dropping his gun as he grabbed at the gaping wound in his neck in shock, his face contorted in a mixture of disbelief anger, and pain. The face of his killer was the last thing he saw before he stumbled backwards and fell out of the broken window behind him.

Across the way, under a tree in the palace gardens, a furry, brown werewolf was jolted out of sleep by a loud, resounding thump reverberating through the warm soil of the palace grounds. With a wide yawn, he wandered over and looked in interest at the new body that graced his feeding ground.

If he had lips, he would be grinning.

After all, every creature deserves desert after a good meal, right?


End file.
